Now and Forever
by LANIKI
Summary: This is a House and O/C romance. This is not Hameron, although Cameron is important to the story. House encounters someone from his past and learns some secrets. Please give it a try. Rating is M for some sex scenes.
1. Chapter 1

This is a House & O/C romance. This is NOT Hameron, although Cameron is essential to the story. It will take a few chapters to get to the House romance, but please have patience. I think you'll find it's worth the wait.

Chapter 1

Allison Cameron rushed down the hospital corridor, her arms filled with files. Damn House! How was she supposed to find the one thing all of these patients had in common? He always gave her the hardest chores. Almost like he was punishing her. She was so concentrated on her anger and the futility of the task ahead of her that she really wasn't watching where she was going. That's why she didn't see the young man that she barreled into.

Papers flew everywhere, as Cameron cried out, "Damnit!"

The man immediately dropped down to the floor to pick up the papers. "Sorry, let me help you."

Cameron was on the floor as well, gathering papers as she said, "You should help, you knocked them down."

"Hey, you were the one who banged into me. I was just minding my own business."

"Well, you…" she began, but lost her thought as she looked up at the black wavy hair, smooth olive complexion and deep blue eyes. Oh God, was he gorgeous! What was it about men with blue eyes?

He was watching her, waiting for her to finish her thought. But he was mesmerized as well by clear green eyes and a pretty face. Not to mention a cute little figure under the white coat.

"Well, I what?" he asked.

"What…what?"

"You started to say 'well, you…' but you didn't finish."

"I, um, I don't know what I was going to say. I'm sorry; it really wasn't your fault. I'm a little distracted here. My boss is a jerk."

He laughed showing even white teeth. "Let me guess, you must work for Dr. House."

"How did you know?"

"I've only been here a week, but I've heard about House."

She smiled and he smiled back. Wow, he thought, she was really pretty. Working in Princeton might be even better than he thought.

"I'm Michael Newman," he said, "I just started working for Dr. Zaleski."

"Oh, you're a cardiologist? Zaleski's good. I'm Alison Cameron and as you've guessed, I work for House."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Well, don't ask me on a day like today, but usually, not too bad."

"Uh-oh, you seem like an optimist."

"Guilty. Is that bad?"

"Depends. Does your optimism extend to seeing good things if we met for coffee later?"

She smiled again.

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They met for coffee. They met for dinner. Then he picked her up at her apartment. They went to a movie. They went to an art show. More dinners, more coffees. They started meeting for lunch everyday. Within two months, Alison Cameron found herself falling for the handsome cardiologist.

Michael Newman had been born in New York City. He had gone to Harvard for medical school. After interning in Boston and residency at the Mayo Clinic, he had accepted a staff position at PPTH. His family was from New York, but his mother, who was a widow, had decided to move to Princeton when he took the job here. It didn't take long before Allison was to meet Mrs. Newman.

Michael was buying a house and his mom lived with him. She had the master suite on the first floor. Michael had a bedroom, sitting room and den on the second floor. He told Allison that his mom was totally cool with whatever he did. She didn't quite believe that until she was finally introduced to her.

Marianne Newman was very young. Michael was 29, and his mom couldn't be more than late forties herself. Michael had told Allison that his mom was very young was he was born, but seeing the beautiful, vibrant woman convinced her. She had Michael's olive complexion and black hair, but her eyes were dark brown. Michael said that his mom's family was Italian and that was obviously where the dark good looks came from. Cameron assumed the late Mr. Newman had been fair.

The meeting between Michael's mother and his new girl went very well. Marianne was proud of her son and she trusted his judgment. Plus she had seen the look in his eyes when he talked about his new girlfriend. She had never seen that look on her son's face before, but she had seen that same look on her own face when she had met Michael's father and she knew it still appeared whenever she thought about him, even though it had been a long time since she had seen him.

Marianne spent her evenings in her bedroom, where her television and computer were. She assured Allison that it was perfectly fine for her and Michael to spend evenings in his rooms upstairs.

"If I ever bother you, you can be sure, it's because I'm dying or at least extremely ill." She told them.

So Michael and Allison's relationship grew steadily and his mother couldn't be happier. She liked the young woman and was glad her son was happy and settling in to his life as a doctor in Princeton.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for your patience. I know there wasn't alot of House in the first chapter, but our favorite doctor makes his presence known in this one. Trust me, once this gets going, it's all aobut House. Just need to set it up.**

**P.S. I apologize in advance for wimping out on the medical aspects. I was goign to research some disease to use for this chapter, but when I start reading medical stuff, my eyes glaze over and I get fuzzy. So forgive me for making it vague, but I think I got the point across. Thanks!**

**Chapter 2**

_Three months later…_

Cameron tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for House to let them leave. There was really nothing more they could do for the patient tonight and Michael was waiting for her. They were celebrating their five-month anniversary with a special dinner and she was already late. They had driven to work together that morning (after spending the previous night together), so Michael wouldn't leave without her.

As the time wore on, she knew she was getting impatient. House, of course, noticed her impatience and dragged out the DDX. He knew she was dating someone in the hospital and that she probably had a hot date. So of course, he had to keep her waiting. There was also the fact that they weren't coming up with anything to explain the symptoms the patient was exhibiting. Something was missing here. His team couldn't see it and he was stumped as well.

He started to browbeat them again, asking questions, dismissing their answers and calling them stupid when they named diseases that didn't make sense. Cameron suggested an autoimmune problem for the tenth time and he blasted her.

He was staring at the whiteboard and telling them to try again, when he heard an unfamiliar voice say, "Maybe if you stopped yelling at them long enough to let them think, they would come up with the right answer."

House turned around to see a young, dark-haired man standing there.

"They don't know the right answer." House told him.

"Do you?"

"Maybe. Do you?"

"I think so."

"Well?"

"Why should I tell you? I don't work for you."

"Tell me the right answer and you could."

Michael eyed House cautiously. He glanced quickly at Allison, who was trying to keep all emotion out of her expression. "Okay." He said and named an obscure disease.

House watched him, his mind working. He turned back to the whiteboard, staring at the symptoms. "No, thanks for playing, but that doesn't have these symptoms." He told him what symptoms it usually had.

"Not everyone presents that way. There have been documented cases where it didn't."

"It doesn't explain this." House said, pointing to a symptom on the board.

"Sure it does. If you take this into account." He wrote something else on the board.

"Who said she had that?"

Michael pointed out that the board said she was suffering from one symptom that usually caused another. And that was the one that Michael had written.

House stared at the whiteboard once again and so did his team. He had missed that. How had he missed that? It made perfect sense.

"Chase, go check it. If it's positive, start her on the medication for it. Foreman, run the tests again to make sure." He turned and looked at Michael. "I assume you're Cameron's latest boy toy."

Michael eyed the older doctor, then said, "I'm Michael Newman, I work for Zaleski in Cardiology."

'I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Zaleski's an idiot."

Michael tried to hide the smile. House was right, but he knew it wasn't wise to diss his boss in front of a colleague. "Well, not everyone can be the brilliant Dr. House."

"True. Well, Newman as a reward, you can take Cameron out of here and have hot, wild sex to celebrate the fact that you're smarter than she is."

"Smarter than you too, apparently."

House narrowed his eyes. "Don't push it kid. Someone will have to spend the night with the patient. If you don't want it to be your girlfriend, you'd better quit while you're ahead."

"Wow, I'd heard better about you." Michael said as he started to lead Cameron out of the conference room.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't think you'd play the power card that early to win an argument. Really expected better." They were in the corridor and making their escape at this point.

House watched them leave, a smile appearing on his face.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"…and then we just walked away and Michael never looked back at him!" Allison told Marianne. "It was amazing. No one talks to him that way!"

"So, what did 'the jerk' do then?" Michael and Allison always referred to Allison's boss as 'the jerk'. Marianne didn't even know his name. But since her son didn't work for him, she really didn't care. He didn't sound like a man she'd ever want to meet anyway.

"I don't know." Allison said. "We never turned back. I can't believe Michael did that!"

"Why?" Michael asked. "What was I supposed to do? I solved his case for him and he acts like an ass."

"Actually, he was pretty nice to you."

"He was?" Michael was incredulous.

"Sure, he let me leave. He didn't have to."

"Yeah, but he made sure to make sexual comments about us first."

Marianne was shocked. "He did? That's terrible! He really is a jerk."

"No, that's just his way." Allison said. "I mean, he is a jerk. But he uses sexual comments a lot. It doesn't really mean anything."

"Still, if he makes another remark like that about you, I'm going to punch his lights out. I don't care if he is a department head."

Both women looked at Michael affectionately. Marianne because she was proud that her son would stand up for the woman she could see he was falling in love with and Cameron because he would stand up to House for her.

Later that night, when Michael and Allison were alone in her bed, they talked about it again.

"But Michael, aren't you excited that you solved the case?"

He smiled at her. "Yeah, how about it? I did something the great Gregory House couldn't do. Pretty cool, huh?"


	3. Chapter 3

I know that everyone is impatient for the O/C romance. Please bear with me - it's coming and it will be very good. But I need to set the scene first. You'll understand. Please keep reading...

Chapter 3

_Two months later… _

Eric Foreman resigned from House's team. The news was soon all over the hospital, even though Michael heard it from Allison, of course. People speculated on who would replace the neurologist.

Michael Newman wondered too. Since the night that he had helped solve the case, he had stopped by the Diagnostics department a few times, mostly looking for his girlfriend. Most of the time House had either ignored him or made some cutting remark to him. But every now and then, he would ask his opinion on a case and most of the time he didn't call him an idiot.

Se when he heard about Foreman's resignation, he asked Allison to give House a copy of his resume. She did. House put it somewhere on his desk and forgot about it.

Then, out of the blue, House fired Robert Chase. The hospital was shocked. Cameron wondered if she should quit. She asked Michael.

"Why should you quit? He didn't fire you."

"Yes, but he fired my colleague."

"But not you. Look, you need to do what you think is best, but leave only if it's right for you, not because you need to feel loyal to your colleagues."

"Do you still want to work for him?"

"Yes."

"But. Michael, he's a jerk! We've always known that and now you can see how much."

"And I've always known it too. But he's also the most brilliant doctor I've ever seen. I could learn so much from him. I want to learn from him. Honey, could you ask him about my resume?"

She sighed. "I guess. But you know how he is." She saw the look on Michael's face. "Okay, I'll ask him."

She asked House. At first he looked confused, as if he didn't know who Michael was, but then he gave in and said he wasn't hiring anyone else.

"House, you know that Cuddy will never allow you to not have a team."

"I have a team – a team of one."

"Oh, no. Either you hire two other doctors or I'm leaving. I'm not going to be the only one doing all your dirty work."

"You just want me to hire your boyfriend."

"I just want you to hire someone."

House thought about it for a minute. "Okay, call him. See if he can come in for an interview."

"When?" she asked, happily.

"A week from next Tuesday? When do you think? Right now."

"Now? With no warning?"

"If he's the kind of doctor I need, he'll work well under pressure. It's now or never."

Ten minutes later, Michael was sitting in House's office, while House read his resume. Michael had to bring another one with him. The younger man sat impatiently waiting while House looked over the resume. He had the feeling that House had finished, but was prolonging it to make him squirm. He was just about to call him on it, when House spoke:

"So why do you want to work for me?"

"I can learn a lot from you."

"I'm not a teacher."

"No, but you're a smart doctor."

House stared at him for a bit. "You didn't come to Princeton to work for Zaleski, did you?"

"Of course I did. I work for him, don't I?"

"Yeah, because that was the only opening here. You've gotta know he's an idiot."

Michael smiled, but didn't say anything.

House continued. "So you came here, hoping to work for me. And you romanced Cameron to get to me."

"No!"

"It's okay, I respect you for that. You're ambitious, you want to get where you want to be. That's great. What's stupid is actually falling for her."

"It's stupid to fall in love with a beautiful woman?"

"It's stupid to fall for your mark. 'Cause when she finds out, she's gonna be pissed and you're not gonna get anymore."

"I'll worry about that. Are you concerned that if you hire me, our personal relationship might affect out working together?"

"No, because as long as you two do your work and handle the patients, I don't care if you have sex on the conference table. In fact, I might enjoy watching. But if she's pissed at you, it's not gonna be fun around here."

"I can handle Allison. This isn't about her, it's about whether you want me to work for you."

"True. Ok, you told me why you want to work for me. Tell me why I should hire you."

"Because I'm smart."

"Big deal."

"I'm as smart as you."

"Don't push it, kid. You solved one case. You got lucky. But can you do it day in and day out?"

"Yes, I can."

"Pretty confident."

Michael shrugged. "I know my strengths. I'm smart, I'm a hard-worker and I'm relentless. I know what I want and I'll go for it. I also don't accept defeat. So I'll work for the patients until there's no hope, until they're dead. Even then I don't give up."

"Well, aren't you Mr. Good Guy – working so hard for the patient, not caring about yourself, blah, blah, blah. Do you think that's gonna get you the job?"

"Why don't you tell me what is going to get me the job and I'll say that?"

"Here's the way I see you: you're smart, I'll give you that and you're obviously ambitious. But you think if you work for me, you're gonna show me up, show the world how much better than me you are. You think you're gonna save all the patients and everyone will praise you. You can't understand why this is a hard job, because you could do it better than anyone. You're arrogant and you're over confident."

Michael stared at him. He couldn't believe that after wanting this for so long, House was shooting him down like this. Since he didn't really have anything to lose, he might as well shoot his load.

"Okay, so you don't want me to show you up. I can understand that a guy like you would feel threatened by a younger doctor coming in and taking over. I get it. It's cool."

House stared at the young man for a minute, then said, "Welcome to Diagnostics, you start Monday."

Michael's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"No, this is just a really funny joke. I'm offering you the job. But you've got to start Monday. Which means you go tell Dr. Cuddy to switch your department and you go tell Zaleski that he's lost you. I don't want to be involved with the paperwork, I just want you here working …on Monday."

Michael smiled. "You got it. I'll take care of it and I'll be here Monday."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

" and then he told me I start on Monday!" Michael exuberantly told his mother.

Marianne looked confused. "Wait, you're going to work for Allison's boss? The jerk? But I thought you came here to work with Dr. Zaleski?"

"No, I came here to work at Princeton. There wasn't an opening in Diagnostics, but I figured if I was here, I might get a chance if someone left. And I did!"

Allison was excited too, probably because she and Michael would be working together. "My boss is a jerk, Marianne, but he's brilliant. Michael will learn so much from him."

"I thought you came here to work, not to study more."

"I will be working, but I'll be learning too. I've wanted to work with him since I finished medical school. This is the chance I've been waiting for!"

Michael and Allison continued to talk animatedly about the job and working together. Marianne blocked most of it out as she thought about what Michael had just told her. Although he came to her with personal and emotional issues, as far as medicine was concerned, he knew exactly what he wanted and where he wanted to be. His confidence in medical matters was very strong, especially considering how young and still inexperienced he was. But if he wanted to work with this doctor, it was probably the right thing for him to do. She realized she didn't even know the doctor's name – he was just the jerk. She didn't care what his name was; she just worried about how he would treat Michael if he really was a jerk.

But then she knew that Michael could handle it. Her son wasn't a jerk, but he could be ruthless. Especially when it came to his career. She looked at Allison and wondered, did he date her just to get close to this doctor? She had no doubt that he had real feelings for her, but still…

Where did this ruthless streak come from? His father? It was so long ago, she had a hard time remembering for sure. But she knew that Michael had his own arrogance and it wasn't an attractive quality. He wasn't deliberately cruel, but he was determined. She had a feeling that he would be able to handle this jerk doctor.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Michael was able to handle House. Of course, the gruff older doctor called him a moron on a daily basis and tried to break him, but Michael stood firm. He wasn't afraid to admit when he was wrong, but he was right more often than not. Even though House pretended otherwise, he was secretly very impressed with the young man.

The next six weeks flew by. House kept trying to outwit Michael and Michael kept trying to one up House. It became a contest between the two, with Cameron in the middle. She got fed up with their constant challenges to each other and decided to set up a contest.

"Alright, how about this? For the next month, we keep track of who comes up with the most correct answers. The winner gets…I don't know what do you want if you win?"

Michael spoke first. "My friend from college is getting married and we need to go to Lancaster for the weekend. If I win, Allison and I get the weekend off, even if there is a patient."

House said, "And if I win, Newman does a month of my clinic duty."

"Wait a minute! I get a weekend, you get a month?"

"I'm bigger than you."

"No, you're not."

"Well, I'm older."

"Big deal."

"How about this? I'm your boss and I can make you do the clinic duty anyway?"

Michael sighed, "Okay, okay! It's a deal. But you're not going to renege if I win, are you?"

"You're not going to win."

"But if I do?"

"I won't renege. But you're not going to win."

"You promise? You give your word?" Michael asked him.

"Yes. But you're not going to win."

Cameron looked at both men. "Why don't you two shake hands on it?"

Michael held out his hand. House took it and blue eyes stared into blue eyes as they shook hands.

"You're not going to win." House said.

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Michael won. House was livid. But there was no disputing the fact that Michael had made more right guesses than House had. Of course, House had ended up solving more of the cases in the end, but that wasn't the contest. Michael had come up with ideas that had panned out and had led to the next idea that had led to House ultimately curing the patient. But for right ideas, Michael won. So he and Allison were getting the entire weekend off, no matter if there was a patient.

And of course, there was a patient. But true to his word, House agreed to work the weekend and care for her while they went away. He realized that he really needed to hire another fellow. If he had, there would have been someone else to work the weekend. Still, he stayed with the patient. By Saturday morning, she was mostly stable, but House knew there was something he was missing. He also knew that Newman and Cameron were leaving by ten a.m. They had turned off their cell phones to avoid his call. He had heard them talking the day before and knew that they were leaving from Michael's house, so he got into his car and drove there.

When Michael opened the door, he groaned. "Come on, you promised!"

"Ten minutes," House said, "I need ten minutes of your time. Then you can go."

Michael sighed, and then went to get Allison, leaving the door open slightly and House on the step. She looked at his face when he entered the kitchen.

"Oh, no, it can't be!"

"He said ten minutes only. I'm holding him to that."

"What's gong on?' Marianne asked.

"It's our boss. He needs to talk to us for ten minutes only."

Marianne looked past him into the living room, but didn't see anyone there. However, she did see the open door. "Where is he?"

"Outside."

House could hear only murmured voices, until a woman's voice said, "Michael! You were raised better than that. How could you leave the poor man outside in the cold?"

More murmurs. "I don't care. We don't leave guests standing on the doorstep. Invite him in, give him a cup of coffee."

Murmur, murmur, and then Michael appeared at the door.

"Come in. Would you like some coffee?"

House chuckled. Newman sounded like a little boy who had just been chastised by Mommy. Which he had. "Yeah, thanks."

He was anxious to meet the woman who could reduce the arrogant Dr. Newman to a misbehaving child.

Michael led him into the dining room, where Cameron was bringing out a cup of coffee the way he liked it. There was a plate of muffins on the table. He eyed them greedily.

"Have one." Michael said. "They're homemade. My mother baked them this morning."

"Where is you mother?" House asked as he reached for a muffin.

"In the kitchen. She hates medical talk. You can meet her when we're done."

House nodded as he munched on the delicious muffin. No wonder Newman lived with his mom. Between chewing, he proceeded to tell them his idea. They listened, then offered opinions and suggestions. For the next fifteen minutes, they worked out some ideas. Finally, Michael looked at his watch.

"We have to leave."

"Okay," House said. "I'll let you know what happens.

"Mom," Michael called out. "We're leaving."

Marianne came out of the kitchen with a box full of snacks for their trip. She was looking at the box and telling them what she'd packed. House was picking up his cane and putting on his coat when Michael said, "House, this is my mother. Mom, this is Dr. House."

House and Marianne looked up at the same time and their eyes met. Both were shocked into silence.

It took a few moments before either regained their voice. Marianne recovered first. "Hello, Greg." She whispered.

"Hello, Marianne." He replied quietly.

Michael looked at both of them. "Do you know each other?"

"From a long time ago." Marianne said. "And I didn't know Greg was your boss."

"Yeah, I didn't know…" House looked at Michael, then back at Marianne. "You're his mother?"

She nodded, then looked down.

Cameron broke the mood. "Michael, we really have to leave."

"Yeah, right, let's go."

"I have to go back to the hospital." House said. He looked once more at Marianne. "I'll see you."

She nodded again and they all left, leaving her alone. She stood where she was for several minutes, then moved to the sofa where she sat and closed her eyes. She didn't sleep, but she did dream. Thoughts and images passed through her mind.

House drove back to the hospital. He had to begin the new treatment on the patient, but he needed a little time. He went to his office and sat in his chair. He closed his eyes. He didn't sleep either, but he also dreamt, seeing the same images that Marianne saw.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

November, 1976 – Ft. Bliss, Texas 

Greg walked into the classroom and looked around. There was no way he was going to fit into this southern town. Why, oh, why was his father assigned to Texas of all places? At least in Europe or on the East coast, there were some people interesting enough to interact with. Hell, even California was better than Texas. Hell, even hell was better than Texas. The kids sitting at the desks didn't look like the cream of the state's educational system either. They looked like country hayseeds. He scanned the room, and then stopped. What was this?

Towards the back of the room, a girl was sitting at a desk and doodling on a pad. Her hair was dark and thick, pulled back from her face with combs on either side. Her olive complexion was clear and held dark eyes under long eyelashes. He knew her eyes were dark because at that moment she lifted her head and looked right at him. She smiled briefly, then put her head down again.

If this girl was from Texas, he'd take back everything he'd ever thought about the state. Then again, if this girl was from Texas, he'd visit the Marine base with his father. Willingly.

The homeroom teacher asked him his name with her drawl that he could barely understand. He told her and she directed him to find a seat. As he glanced around the room, he saw that the only empty seat was next to the pretty girl that he had noticed. Oh, well, if he had to.

Marianne looked up from her sketchpad when she heard someone enter the classroom and Miss Pratt talk to the new student. She saw a tall, lanky boy with reddish brown wavy hair. She quickly dropped her gaze as he started glancing around the room, then peeked up again to find him looking at her. Oh my God, he had the most amazing blue eyes! He looked so lost in this room, she couldn't help but smile at him. She broke the gaze almost immediately, but she had a feeling she would remember those eyes for the rest of her life.

He sat in the desk beside her. Even though she was nervous around him, her natural friendliness overcame it. She knew what it was like to be the new kid in school. He was probably another Texas jock or good ole boy, in which case he wouldn't have an interest in her. But in the meantime, she could be nice.

She smiled at him again and said, "Hi. Are you new to the school?"

He looked at her, those unbelievable eyes piercing her with their intensity. "Yeah, I'm new. I'm Greg House."

No Texas drawl! This was good. "Hey," she said, "That's my name too!"

"Your name is Greg House?" he said, thinking, well, she might be pretty, but she was probably a moron.

"No, of course not." Was he an idiot who actually thought that was her name? "My last name is Gregory. Just like your first."

"Okay." That made more sense. "And you first name is…?"

"Marianne. Actually, our last name was DiGregorio, but my dad anglicized it."

Well, he thought, that explained the coloring. And thankfully, there was no Southern accent. This was promising.

The bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom. They both rose and he looked at the paper with his roster. She saw the confused expression on his face and peeked at the paper.

"Do you need some directions?"

"Yeah. You know where these rooms are?"

"Sure." She took the paper from him and told him where each classroom was, then waved and took off in another direction. He watched her for a moment, then made his way to his class.

At lunchtime, somehow Greg found the cafeteria. He got his food and looked around for a place to sit. Most of the tables were full or with people who eyed him warily and gave him a look that said, don't bother. After having transferred into so many schools in his lifetime, he knew that look well. He was actually only looking for an empty table where he could sit quietly and eat.

Then he saw her. Marianne was sitting alone at a table, a soda cup beside her as she doodled on her pad. He looked around. She must have friends or probably a boyfriend. What was wrong with the guys in Texas? Who would leave her alone? He hesitated, not sure if he should approach her when she lifted her gaze and saw him. Her face broke out into a broad smile and she motioned him over. He walked to the table.

"Hi, Greg. If you don't have a place to sit, you can sit here." She said.

"I didn't know if you were waiting for someone."

"Who would I be waiting for?"

"Boyfriend?"

She laughed. "Yeah, right. Sit down, please."

He placed his food on the table and took a seat next to her. "So you don't have people you eat lunch with?"

"Nah. These Texas folk don't really like the Yankees."

He smiled. "How long have you lived here?"

"Almost a year. You just moved here?"

"Yeah. My dad's a marine."

"No kidding! So is mine. He's a sergeant, in the technical corps."

"That's cool." Greg said and concentrated on his sandwich.

"What about your dad? What does he do there?"

"I don't pay much attention. I hate the marines."

"You must know his rank."

Greg tried to avoid her gaze, but he could feel her staring at him. Oh, what the hell. "He's a major."

"Well, that's neat."

"I guess so."

"It's kind of weird moving from place to place, isn't it?"

"You get used to it."

"I don't." she stated emphatically. "I don't like all this moving. You can't make friends, you can't join clubs, you can't do anything!"

He smiled. He knew exactly what she was saying. "I've changed schools three times in the last two years. I don't even unpack all my stuff, just take what I need out of a box and put it back when I'm done."

"Every time I try to join a club, either I start out and have to leave them high and dry when we move or I get there too late, membership is closed. After a while, it's like, why bother?"

"I get asked all the time to join the basketball team or the track team or something. Same thing – either I leave the team in the lurch or they've already got all their players. Yeah, what's the point?"

They looked at each other then and both smiled. Marianne got embarrassed and looked back down at her sketchbook. He followed her gaze to the book and asked her, "What do you keep doodling?"

Her eyes went wide. "Doodling? I don't doodle! I draw."

He pulled the sketchbook from her and looked at the figures on it. There were people, objects, abstract figures – a little of everything. "This is good." He told her.

"Thank you."

"I've never been very good at drawing. It's really cool when people can do this."

"What's your best subject in school?"

"Science."

"Really? I hate science. I have a biology class right now that is awful!"

"Biology is my best subject."

"You're kidding me?" She was incredulous.

He smirked. "It better be. I want to be a doctor."

"Wow. Oh, Greg, could you help me with my biology class?"

"You mean, like, tutor you?"

"Would you?"

"I guess so."

"Oh, that would be so great. Maybe we could get together, like after school or something? If you can."

"Sure I can." Greg smiled at her. Oh, he definitely could.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hope you're enjoying this trip to the past. For the last chapter, I meant to say that the opinions of Texas are not mine. They belong entirely to Greg House and we know what a jerk he is!**

Chapter 6

They met outside of school. He had told her where he parked his car and she joined him there. She looked briefly at the car, a 1970 white Ford Falcon, before smiling at him.

"Nice car." She told him.

He shrugged. "It gets me where I need to go."

"You don't like it? Why did you buy it?" she asked as she got in the car.

"Didn't buy it. My aunt gave it to me when she bought a new one. Free's a good price."

"True." She laughed. She directed him to her house.

It was one of the track houses just off the base, not very large, but inexpensive for marines and their families. Since Greg's father was a major, they had a larger, nicer house further from the base. He parked the car, which made a large shuddering noise as he turned it off, attracting the attention of the man who was bent over a lawn mower on the front step.

"Daddy!" Marianne cried, rushing to meet the man with a hug.

He returned it, but kept his eyes on the boy that was following his beloved daughter up the walk.

"You're home early." She told her father.

"Yeah, had to go in early this morning, got to leave earlier. Hi," he said to Greg, extending his hand. "I'm Joe Gregory."

"Hello, Sergeant Gregory. I'm Greg House." He shook her father's hand.

"Daddy, Greg just moved here. His father is a marine too."

Joe Gregory thought for a moment about any newcomers to the base. Then he remembered.

"Major John House? Is that your father?"

"Yes, sergeant."

Joe smiled. "And he taught you to never address a non-commissioned officer as sir."

"Yes, he did."

And the kid was struggling with it. "Haven't met him yet myself, but some of my men and other non-coms have. Heard he's a good guy."

"Yeah." Greg said, thinking, so I heard too. Haven't seen any proof of it yet.

"So what are you kids up to?"

'Greg's gonna tutor me in biology. Isn't that great?"

"Yeah, it will be if you can pull at least a C out of the class. Well, while you do that, Greg, do you mind if I take a look at your car?"

"Excuse me?"

"I heard it making some noise when you pulled up. If my daughter's going to ride in that car, I'd be happier knowing it's not gonna explode."

Greg hesitated, not wanting to put Marianne's father to any trouble. But he really needed someone with car knowledge to help with it. "Sure, if it's not any trouble." He told him.

"No trouble at all. Give me your keys."

He tossed them to the older man, and then followed Marianne into the house. She led him through the small living room and dining room and into the kitchen where an older woman with dark hair was stirring something on the stove.

"Hi, Mom!" Marianne said. "This is Greg, he's helping me with biology."

The woman turned around and smiled at the young man. Her eyes were the same soft brown as her daughter's and her smile was sweet.

"Hello, Greg. Are you kids hungry? I baked a coconut cake today." She motioned to the cake sitting proudly on the counter.

"Mmm, sounds good. You want some, Greg?"

"Yeah, sure. Thanks, Mrs. Gregory."

She cut slices of the cake, put them on plates and handed them over to the teenagers. "Milk or soda?"

"Milk for me. Greg, what do you want?"

"Milk is fine."

She poured two glasses and they dug into the cake.

"This is really good, Mrs. Gregory."

"Does your mother bake, Greg?"

"Yeah, but my father's allergic to coconut, so she's never made this."

After they finished their snack, they moved into the dining room and began working on the biology. Greg patiently tried to explain the subject to her, but she was slow to comprehend.

Exasperated, he asked her, "Why can't you see this? It makes perfect sense. There's a logic to all living things, whether it's human, animal or plant. Certain things cause definite responses. There's no question, no deviation."

"But I like the questions, I like the deviation. Art is not constrained by the laws of nature. It can be anything you want it to be. It can be totally illogical and still be beautiful. It brings out emotional responses. I feel art. Do you feel anything with biology?"

"Yes. I feel that life makes sense."

She looked at him and wondered why a seventeen year old needed so desperately to have life make sense.

They worked for the better part of an hour on the work, then she stood up and stretched.

"That's enough for today. I can't think about biology anymore. Come on, let's watch some TV."

He followed her into the living room where she switched on the television. She stood there and turned the dial until she found some cartoons, then moved to the sofa where he was sitting.

"Cartoons? How old are you?"

"Cartoons are essential to life. They are so pure, so perfect."

He looked at her with an expression that was seriously doubting her sanity. But her face was lit up with joy and she was so pretty that he had to smile. She curled her legs under her and settled back to enjoy the show, laughing at the silly antics of the animated figures on the screen. He saw little of what was on the television, as he was entranced by her.

When he looked at his watch, he realized that he had better leave or he would be late for dinner. He knew that would be a mistake, so he reluctantly rose from the sofa and told her that he had to leave.

"Well," she said, "Thanks for the tutoring. I guess I'll see you in school tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure." He looked at her as she walked him to the door. God, she was pretty. Maybe he should just take a chance here.

"Um, is there anything fun to do around here?"

"Not too much."

"Um, maybe you could show me whatever there is."

"Sure, anytime."

"How about Friday night?"

She looked at him for a moment. "You mean like a date?"

"No, well, yeah, I guess so. If you want."

She smiled shyly. "Yeah, that'd be nice. Okay."

"Okay. Well, we can figure it out tomorrow at lunch."

"Sure. Goodbye Greg."

"Goodbye, Marianne."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Greg was seventeen years old and had yet to have his first sexual experience. It certainly wasn't for lack of interest or desire. It was simply a question of opportunity. He never lived in an area long enough to get close enough to a girl for it to happen. Of course, there were always the 'easy' girls. But usually they were claimed by the jocks and the hot guys. Hard to get to them. Then there were the ones who would sleep with anyone, but they were only one step above whores. He didn't want to be the type of guy who had to use whores to get laid.

He wanted a relationship with someone and genuine caring between them. But he also wanted to have sex and he wanted to have it soon.

The problem was that Marianne was a nice girl, a really nice girl from a really nice family. He wasn't sure that she would be the one, but he supposed it was worth a try.

All of these thoughts kept going through his head as he got ready for their date. They were only going to the movies, so he didn't want to get too dressed up, but he wanted to look nice. He put on jeans and a blue t-shirt that made his eyes look really bright. There wasn't much more he could do with his appearance.

His hair was thick and wavy, but it never seemed to do what he wanted it to. He couldn't wear it long like some of the other guys did. Of course, his father would kill him if he wore it long. That would be a good reason to grow it.

He knew he was too thin, but no matter how much he ate – and he ate a lot – he never seemed to gain much weight. He also knew that he didn't smile enough. What did he really have to smile about in his life? Playing music made him smile, science, well that intrigued him and kept him thinking. Sometimes it made him smile. But there was little else that did.

He was just finishing combing his hair, when there was a knock at his bedroom door.

"Come in." he called out.

His mother opened the door and peeked in. "Honey, your dad and I were going to go out for ice cream. Did you want something?"

She knew better than to ask him to come along. The less time he spent in his father's company, the happier they all were.

"No, thanks, Mom. I'm actually going out."

"Oh, really? You have a date?" she asked with interest.

"Yeah."

"Is she someone from school?"

"Yeah."

"What's her name?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course not, I was just wondering."

"Her dad's a marine too."

"Well, that's good. You have something in common."

"Yeah."

Blythe House knew that her son didn't want to say any more on the subject. She smoothed his hair down and kissed him on the cheek.

"Have fun, Greg."

"Thanks, Mom."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He pulled up to her house and took one more look at himself in the rear view mirror. Well, that was about as good as it was going to get.

His knock on the door was answered by her father.

"Hi, Greg." He said jovially.

"Hello, Sergeant Gregory."

"Greg, I don't have to tell you to drive carefully when my daughter is in the car with you, do I?" he asked as he led him into the house.

"Of course not, Sergeant."

"And no drinking either."

"No."

"Good, then we understand each other." He slapped him on the back and motioned him to sit down.

Greg sat on the edge of the chair and waited nervously for Marianne. A few minutes later, she appeared in the room. She was wearing jeans that sat low on her hips and a bright red top tucked into them. It had a scoop neck that just skimmed the top of her breasts, but didn't reveal anything. It didn't have to. Even without showing any excess skin, he could see her lovely young figure. She had nicely formed breasts, larger than normal, but not overly so. He waist was thin, but her hips were softly rounded. He almost salivated just looking at her, then remembered that her father was in the room.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi." She replied.

Her father smiled. "You kids have a good time. Remember your curfew, Mar."

"Yes, Daddy, I know." She kissed her father on the cheek and they left the house.

Greg, remembering everything he had been taught by his parents, opened the car door for her. After she was seated, he went around to his side, started the car and they took off.

Despite their earlier friendly encounters, they both felt awkward since now this was a DATE. Neither knew quite what to say to each other. Finally, Greg decided to break the silence.

"I thought we'd go see that new boxing movie."

She turned to look at him. "I don't really like boxing – too violent."

"Well, this is supposed to be really good. About some down and out guy who gets a chance to fight the champion. And he's a really dumb Philadelphia guy and the fight is on the Bicentennial."

"Oh, I think I heard about that one. What's it called?"

"Rocky."

"Yeah, that's it. My dad was talking about it. Since he's also Italian and a city guy, he thought it sounded good."

"Yeah, I thought so too. So it's okay to see that?"

"Sure."

They went to the movie and both of them enjoyed it. He loved the fight sequences and the way Rocky trained himself for the fight. She loved the romance between Rocky and Adrienne and the way he called for her at the end.

They went to a nearby diner for a soda afterwards. After discussing the movie for a while, they moved on to other things – likes and dislikes, interests and hobbies – all the things that two people say on a first date. She talked about her drawing, he talked about his music.

But as Greg listened to the lovely young woman across from him, he began to realize that she was perhaps a nicer girl than he had thought. He decided to test the water a little.

"So, do you ever drink?"

"You mean alcohol?"

"No, I meant do you ever drink water. Yeah, alcohol, booze."

"Oh, sure."

He relaxed a little, until she added, "At Christmas and at special dinners, my parents let me have one glass of wine. I'm not sure if I like it, but it feels very mature to drink it."

Oh no, he thought, this was not good. "That's the only time you drink?" When she nodded, he continued. "So, I guess that means you don't get high either?"

Her eyes got wide. "You mean drugs?"

'Well, yeah, or pot."

She shook her head. "No, never! I would never do that!"

He looked at her. "You've never tried anything? Not even pot?"

"I've never even tried a regular cigarette, let alone marijuana." She said the word as if it was something evil.

"You've never smoked a cigarette?"

"No. Why, do you smoke?"

"Not regularly, but I have."

"And do you smoke …marijuana?"

"Yeah. It's great, you really need to try it."

She shook her head again. "No way. When you do drugs, you lose control and then who knows what you would do. Not me."

"Pot isn't drugs, it's…pot! And when you say lose control, are you talking about sex?"

"Yes. I know of girls who got drunk or high and then they slept with guys and, and…"

"So you've never slept with a guy."

She looked at him, then looked away and said in a small voice, "No."

Okay, he thought, she was only seventeen and from a traditional family. That didn't mean she wouldn't. "Do you think you would?"

She looked him in the eye now. "Probably not. And I wouldn't like a guy that tried to pressure me to do it."

"Okay." He said.

They finished their sodas and got into his car. They drove home in silence. Marianne wasn't sure what she had done wrong, but she had the feeling that she had somehow ruined the date for them. When they pulled up to her house, she turned to him and smiled.

"I had a really nice time."

"Yeah, me too." He said, not looking at her.

"So, I guess, I'll see you in school."

"Sure."

She started opening her door. But he jumped around and opened it for her. His mother had told him how to behave when he was with a girl. He walked with her to her door. She turned to look at him again, smiling slightly.

"Well, thanks again." She said.

"Sure. It was fun."

"So, good night."

"Yeah, good night." He was about to walk away, but thought, what the hell? He leaned over and lightly touched his lips to hers. She leaned into the kiss, placing her hand on his shoulder. He put his hands on her waist to pull her a little closer. After a few seconds, he broke the kiss and pulled back. He looked away from her, as she smiled at him once more, then went into her house.

He was not happy.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Greg had not wanted to enjoy the kiss with Marianne. He had only kissed her because he thought it would be the polite thing to do, since he planned on not going out with her again. He may not have had sex before, but he had kissed some girls. He had even gotten beyond first base. So he was a little experienced with kisses. Most were nice, pleasant, a little exciting. He had not expected the …the…well, he didn't know what it was, but it was something amazing.

Which made it all the harder. If that kiss had been ordinary, merely pleasant, but forgettable, he could have walked away from her without a thought. She was too nice a girl. She didn't drink or get high. She didn't like sex. She was an artist, she hated science. She liked romantic movies. She came from a nice, traditional family. She even went to church, for god's sake! They had absolutely nothing in common. There was no hope for a relationship between them. He decided he would not go out with her again. He even avoided her in school.

On Monday, he walked into homeroom to see her smiling at him. He nodded his head, then sat down and pulled out a book. He kept his eyes on the book, avoiding her. But when he glanced at her through the corner of his eye, he could see that she was looking at him, a confused look on her face.

At lunchtime, she watched him come in and followed his progress, but he made sure to sit in the opposite end of the cafeteria from her. A couple of glances in her direction showed him sadness and confusion on her face.

It was for her own good, he told himself. He was not the guy for her. He only wanted to get laid. She wasn't about to put out and he would get frustrated and angry at her. She would be hurt. Or he would somehow get her drunk or something and convince her to sleep with him and she would be full of remorse and would hate him. Either way, she would end up hating him in the end. This way at least, she would be hurt a hell of a lot less.

He spent the next few weeks ignoring her. She stopped looking for him and watching him. Every now and then, he would see her glance his way, but the glances became fewer and fewer. Not that he was looking at her, he just wanted to be sure she was over this infatuation.

But he still couldn't forget that kiss. He thought about it during the day while he was in school. He thought about it when he was driving home. He thought about it every time he was in the same room with her. He especially thought about it at night in his bed. Since the only sexual release he had was what he provided for himself, he saw her pretty face and sexy young body. And he remembered that kiss. And it never failed to accomplish its purpose.

However, it was starting to affect his schoolwork. He kept thinking about her and that amazing kiss at the most inopportune times. Finally, when he flubbed a science quiz that he should have breezed through, he knew he had to do something about it. He couldn't function without another one of those amazing kisses.

Greg entered the cafeteria and moved to get his food. Once his tray was full, he scanned the room and saw her sitting where she usually did. She was playing with some potato chips with her left hand, while her right hand was drawing something in her ever present sketchbook. He took a deep breath and approached her.

"Hi." He said when he got to the table.

She looked up, surprise on her face. "Hi." She said hesitantly.

"Can I sit here?"

Confused, she said, "I guess so."

He sat down and took another deep breath. "So, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine." Her voice was small and full of uncertainty. She looked into his blue eyes, trying to understand what was going on. She had thought their date was terrific, then he had closed up on her at the end. But there had been that kiss, that wonderful kiss and she'd believed there was still hope. Unfortunately, he had spent the next few weeks totally ignoring her. She had been hurt, she still was. So what was he doing now?

"Good, that's good."

"Greg, what are you doing?"

"Having lunch, can't you tell?"

She seethed for a few seconds, then her Italian temper took over. "I can't tell because I don't understand. You've been ignoring me ever since we went out, now all of a sudden you want to have lunch with me. What's going on?"

He sighed. He knew this would come and he would have to tell her. He wasn't good at this stuff, and he knew if he didn't say it right, that would be it.

"Okay, the thing is, I think you're a really nice girl."

"But not nice enough to continue to be friends with me?"

"Actually, too nice for that. See, I've been looking for…well, for a different type of girl. One that will provide different entertainment."

She looked at him in confusion. Then realization dawned on her. "You mean you want a girl that you can sleep with."

"Yeah."

"Okay, so that's why you've been ignoring me. I get it. I'm not a slut and I don't intend to be. But why are you talking to me now?"

He sat back, staring down at his lunch. Finally, he said, "Because I decided that it doesn't matter whether I sleep with you. I …like you. I want to go out with you again."

Her brown eyes met his blue ones. "Are you sure you don't mind that we won't…"

"No. I really like you and I want to see you some more. What do you think?"

She smiled at him. "Yes, I'd like to go out with you."

He smiled back and began to eat his lunch.


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, people, I know you're out there. Lots of people reading this, but not so many reviews. Thank you, thank you to those who have. But I am shamelessly begging the rest of you to let me know how I'm doing. This is a short chapter, but more fun to come soon.**

Chapter 9

They went out Friday night. And again Saturday night. And he came to dinner with her family on Sunday. And each time, when he said goodbye, he got one of those amazing kisses. Most days after school he went to her house as well and was often invited to stay for dinner.

They started to get to know each other better – and still found that they had almost nothing in common:

They were riding in Greg's car and when he put a cassette in and turned up the volume. Hard rock music blared out of the speakers.

"What is that?" Marianne asked.

"Led Zeppelin. Do you like them?"

"No. Do you have any Barry Manilow?"

Greg started choking. "B-B-Barry…NO!"

Marianne was offended. "What's wrong with Barry Manilow?"

"Nothing – if you want a lobotomy."

Another time they were driving and he saw someone riding a motorcycle. Greg was excited.

"Man, look at the motorcycle. That is one cool ride. My dad won't let me get a cycle, but when I'm old enough, man!"

"Are you crazy? Your father is right, it's way too dangerous!" Marianne told him.

"Have you ever ridden on one?"

"No!" she stated emphatically. "And I never will! I'm not crazy."

"No, you're just chicken."

One day, Marianne looked at him and asked him sincerely, "Greg, would like to go to church with me?"

"Uh, NO!"

She was hurt. "Why don't you?"

"Why would I? It's all bullshit."

"Don't you believe in God?"

Greg pretended to think about that. "Let's see, do I believe that some all powerful being made us and is sitting on a throne somewhere watching us and controlling everything. Including all the wars, sickness and death. Yeah, I really believe that."

"We are tested to prove our faith…"

"Right, so that we can go to that magical place after we die. Do you know what that magical place is called? A CEMETERY! Nothing happens when you die, you're just dead. That's why you need to live the best you can while you're here. 'Cause here is all you've got."

Marianne was shocked that Greg didn't want to spend time with his family and was surprised that she liked being with hers.

"But I enjoy spending time with my family!" she told him.

"Well, if I had your family, maybe I would too."

"I'm sure your family's not that bad."

He smirked. "Honey, you have no idea."

"But you love them anyway, right?"

He shrugged. "Depends. What time is it?"

"That's not funny. They're still your parents."

"Yeah, I know. Just my luck."

Despite all their disagreements, they still managed to enjoy being together. He made her laugh and she made him smile. Their discussions were heated and often very loud. But at the end of them, they looked into each other's eyes and made up with a kiss.

And, despite all that they disagreed on, they found many things to enjoy together. Things they would have never believed they could enjoy.

One day after school, they sat down to watch TV instead of studying. She turned on the TV and squealed.

"What's up?" he asked.

"We're early enough to watch General Hospital!"

"General Hospital? That's a soap opera, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Why the hell would you want to watch a soap opera? And why would you think I'd want to?"

"Well, because it's good. And you want to be a doctor, right? You might learn something."

"From a soap opera? Right." But he looked at the disappointed expression on her face and sighed. He sat beside her, arm around her shoulder and watched the show with her.

And watched it again the next day. And again.

It wasn't long before he was yelling at the actors on the screen and having heated discussions with her about it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

One morning, not long after they had started dating, Sgt. Gregory had a visit from a superior officer. He was working on a jeep, when he realized someone else had entered the garage. He saw the stripes first and snapped to attention.

"Good morning, Sir." He said to Major House.

"At ease, sergeant." John House told him. Joe Gregory assumed the 'at ease' position. "I understand my son is seeing your daughter."

"Yes, sir, he is."

"Well, that's an interesting development, wouldn't you say, Sergeant?"

"Yes, sir. Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Yes, of course."

"Your son is a very nice young man. We enjoy having him at our home. He is always very courteous to myself and my wife. You should be proud of him."

"Thank you for speaking freely, sergeant. Well, you can return to your duties. I just thought that we should meet. As you were, sergeant."

"Thank you, sir."

As Major House walked away, Joe watched him leave, thinking, what the hell was that about?


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

They were sitting in her living room, looking at photo albums when he noticed something.

"Wait a minute, what is this?" He pointed to a paper in the album.

"Oh, that's my confirmation announcement."

"Yeah, I can read that. But what is this word here?"

"Which word?"

"This one beginning with an E."

"Okay, I think we can put this book away now." She tried to close it.

He stood up, holding it high above her head where she couldn't reach it. "No, I have to know, I'm trying to read it. I think it's E-U-F-E-M-I-A. What the hell is that?"

"Never mind, Greg, just give me the book."

"And why is this strange word in between your first and last name?"

"Greg, please!"

"No, I have to know! Come on, what the hell is it?"

"It's my confirmation name, okay? Are you happy now?"

"Wait, you're kidding me, right? Your name is Marianne Eufemia Gregory? Eufemia? Okay, you never told me that your parents did drugs. From that name, I'd say serious drugs."

She sighed. "It was my great grandmother's name. My mom was really close to her grandmother and she died just before I was born. My dad wouldn't let her name me Eufemia, but he promised her she could give it to me as a confirmation name. So, yes, my name is Marianne Eufemia Gregory."

"MEG."

"What?"

"Your initials. They spell MEG."

"So?"

"So, I think that's what I'll call you."

"No, don't."

"Well, the alternative is I tell everyone your name is Eufemia.'

She sighed again. "Okay, okay. Wait a minute, that makes us Meg and Greg."

"Oh, god. On second thought, I won't call you Meg."

"No, now I like it. Meg and Greg." She saw his face, and smiled. "Of course, I could just come up with a nickname for you. Hmmm, how does Greggie sound?"

"Oh, god, okay, okay, Meg and Greg."

She smiled and put her arms around his neck. He pulled her close and kissed her.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Greg worked part time at the commissary at Fort Bliss. His father had pulled some strings, of course, to get him the job. He hated it, but at least it was money which he needed to care for his car and take Marianne out. For her spending money, Marianne babysat for several of the Marine families that her parents knew. It took up a lot of her Friday and Saturday nights, but they paid well, so she did it. Greg hated when she babysat, because her parents forbid her to have him there and she wouldn't disobey them. But they managed to see each other at school, after school and as much time on the weekends as they could.

Christmas came and they both wanted to find great presents for each other. Greg was invited to her house for the traditional Italian Christmas Eve dinner which consisted of seven different types of fish. They decided that they would exchange their gifts to each other after dinner.

At the Gregory house, Christmas was a magical time. Greg had never experienced anything like it. First were the lights. Joe Gregory had decorated the little house with as many lights as he could manage. Inside, the tree dominated the living room but there were twinkling lights around the doorways and windows as well.

Not only was the house full of Christmas, it was also full of people. Marianne's older brother, Vince, had come home for Christmas. He was a marine as well, stationed in California, but he had leave for the holidays. Of course, her younger brother, David, age twelve, was there as well. Her aunt Lily was also visiting from New York. Her grandparents were expected later in the week because they wanted to be home on Christmas.

Dinner was a wonder to him. There was fish served that he had never even heard of, let alone eaten. Baccala (dried cod) which had been soaked for three days and was breaded and fried; calamari (squid) cut into rings and cooked in a marinara sauce; scungilli (conch) in a salad with celery and olives and dressed with olive oil, garlic and lemon juice; fried smelts; shrimp and mussels over pasta and a white fish baked with garlic and lemon.

Everything was amazing and delicious. What was more amazing was how Marianne's family interacted with each other. They were boisterous and loud and tried to out shout each other. They fought over how the food was prepared, who should sit where and everything they could think of. And anyone could see that they loved each other. Greg had never been around a family like this.

After the fish, Mrs. Gregory brought out bowls of fruit and nuts. The family ate them while the espresso was brewing. It was poured into little demitasse cups and served with a little piece of lemon peel in the cup. Then they brought out platters with Italian pastries that her aunt had brought from New York – cannolis, napoleons, rum babas. There was also a large cheesecake. Greg ate until he couldn't stuff anything else into his mouth.

After dinner, everyone moved into the living room and started exchanging gifts. Greg watched in wonder as the family passed gifts back and forth, fought some more, laughed a lot, and had a wonderful time.

Eventually, Greg and Marianne slipped out of the room and went to the basement where they stood by the washing machine and exchanged presents. He handed her a small box while she gave him a larger one.

When she opened the box, she smiled. It was a silver chain with block letters in the middle that spelled out M E G.

"Oh, Greg, it's wonderful! I love it. Thank you! Can you help me put it on?"

She took it out of the box, handed it to him, and turned around. He put it around her neck and fastened it. Then he kissed the back of her neck. She turned around with a smile and put her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth. He was getting into it, when she broke away.

"Oh, you haven't opened your present yet!"

"I thought this was my present." He said, as he moved in for another kiss.

"No, I mean your gift. Come on, Greg, open it!"

He took the package that she gave him and unwrapped it. Inside was a record album. It was the new Eric Clapton album, No Reason to Cry. His blue eyes shone as he looked at it.

"Wow, I was going to buy this last week, but I ran out of money after doing all my Christmas shopping."

She smiled, happy that he liked the present. He put the album down on the washer and pulled her close to him again.

"Now for the other present…" he said as he bent his head to take her lips with his.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Greg and Marianne had been dating for about two months when his mother asked him to invite her to dinner. He hemmed and hawed and made excuses as to why she couldn't come. Finally, his mother stopped asking him and he thought he was home free, until he found out that his mother had called Marianne herself and invited her for dinner on the next Friday night. He was livid, but there was nothing he could do.

When he picked her up that Friday, he saw that she had taken special care with her appearance. She always dressed nice, but usually as a typical teenager with tight jeans and tops. This evening, she was wearing a skirt. The style was for skirts to be just below the knee, and hers was. It was in a dusty pink color. She wore a silky blouse in a print that had the pink as well as blue and tan in it and tan pumps on her feet. Her hair was fixed with the sides pulled neatly back and held with a barrette and the bottom neatly brushed. Her makeup was lightly applied and there were little gold hoops in her ears.

"Why are you dressed like that?" he asked her.

"Don't I look okay?"

"You look like a school teacher."

"I'm meeting your parents. I want to look nice."

"You always look nice. You don't have to dress like my aunt Sarah to look nice."

"I can't wear tight jeans to meet your parents for the first time. It's just not right. So shut up and let's get going."

They got into his car, but before he started it, he looked at her. "Why don't we bag this dinner and go to a movie or something? I'm sure there's a sappy love story playing."

"You'd rather go to see a sappy love story than have dinner with your parents? What are they aliens? Does your father have two heads?"

"He doesn't need two. He accomplishes enough with the one he has." Greg muttered.

She just shook her head. He was always making those sorts of comments about his father. She couldn't understand it. She loved her father and they got along really well. But even though Greg didn't talk about him much, she knew that he did not have the same sort of relationship with his father.

They pulled up to his house. She looked out the window and was a little awed at the sight. It was much larger than hers and in a very nice neighborhood.

His mother greeted them as soon as they entered. She was an attractive, pleasant looking woman. She smiled as Greg introduced Marianne to her.

"It's nice to finally meet you. I'm sorry, Greg's father has been held up at the base." She told Marianne.

"Dad won't be here?" Greg asked hopefully. If his father was absent, then dinner would be okay.

"Oh, he'll be here. He's just running late. Something came up."

Please, Greg thought, let it be a national disaster that keeps him there all night—or forever for that matter.

They sat in the living room and made small talk. Blythe House asked Marianne about her family and her interests. Marianne spoke politely and quietly, but Greg could see that she was a bit nervous. He reached over and silently took her hand and squeezed it. She relaxed a bit.

While they were chatting amiably, the front door opened and Major John House came in. Blythe immediately jumped up and greeted her husband. Greg put his head down and muttered something unintelligible. Marianne looked at him, but rose and smiled as his father turned to her.

Greg stood up too and said, "Dad, this is Marianne. Marianne, my father."

"It's nice to meet you, Major House." She said.

"Well, glad to meet you at last. Wondered when Greg was going to bring you around."

"We're just about ready to eat, John, do you need to wash up."

"Yeah, be right back."

Blythe hurried toward the kitchen to bring out dinner. Marianne followed, asking, "Can I help you, Mrs. House?"

"Oh, no, dear, everything is taken care of, thank you. But if Greg wants to get the plates and silverware, the two of you can set the table."

As they did it, Marianne said, "Your parents are very nice."

Greg just snorted. "You've only spent five minutes with them. Give it time."

She just shook her head at him. Soon the four of them were seated at the table, eating a dinner of roast beef, mashed potatoes and green beans. The conversation started pleasantly, the elder Houses asking Marianne about her family.

"So," John House began, "Your father a career man?"

She knew what he meant. "Well, sir, he's been in the corps for over twenty years, so I guess so. But he'll retire in a few more. He wants to own his own garage."

John nodded. "You have siblings?"

"Yes, sir, my younger brother, David, he's twelve and of course, my older brother Vince. He's twenty-one. He's a Marine too, stationed in California."

John smiled. "Good for him. Your father must be proud. It's important to have your son follow in your footsteps." As he spoke, he shot a glance at Greg.

"What about letting your kids choose their own lives? Isn't that important?" Greg shot back.

Blythe, sensing a conflict arising, interrupted. "So are you planning on attending college, Marianne?"

"Perhaps the community college. There isn't really money for me to go to college and I'm not smart enough for a scholarship. I'd be flunking Biology right now, if Greg wasn't tutoring me."

"Is there anything you'd like to study?"

"If I had a chance, art probably."

"She always has a sketchbook in her hands," Greg said and Marianne smiled.

"He's right. I'm lost without my sketchbook."

"Art's a nice pastime, but it's not a career. You can't make any real money as an artist. Not while you're alive anyway." John said.

"Medicine's a real career." Greg said.

"Yes, it is. And the Marine Corps needs doctors. And they'll pay you a salary while they pay for your education." John stated smugly.

"I don't need the Marine Corps to pay for my education. I'll get a scholarship or do it myself."

"Greg…"

"Who's ready for dessert?" Blythe said, rising from the table. "I have a very nice peach cobbler. Greg, do you want to help me bring in these dishes, honey?"

She looked at him pointedly and he knew that she wanted to get him away from his father.

They managed to get through dessert without any other incidents, mostly because Blythe kept talking about anything at all. Once the meal was done, Greg rose and told his parents, "I need to be getting Marianne home now."

Blythe looked at him, realizing what he was doing. "Well, Marianne, it was very nice to meet you, dear. I hope you'll come to see us again."

"I'd love to, Mrs. House. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious. And it was very nice to meet both of you."

Greg hustled her out of the house as quickly as he could. He didn't say a word, just hurried to the car and got in. No sooner were the doors closed, than he took off, driving much faster than was necessary or legal.

Marianne remained silent, sensing that he needed some time to think. He drove for awhile, not really aware of where he was going. At last he parked the car and got out, walking into a field. She followed, staying a bit behind, allowing him the space he needed.

Finally, he collapsed on the ground, banging his hands down in frustration. She walked to him and crouched down beside him.

"You okay?" she asked.

"No, I'm not okay. God, he's a dick. Why does he have to do that shit when you're there?"

She rubbed his arm and he looked at her. "He's on me all the time. **HE** knows what's right. **HE** knows what I should be doing. **HE** knows how I should behave. God, he's such a fucking hypocrite!"

"Greg!"

"Sorry, but he is. And that's the only way to say it."

"It wasn't that bad. After all, most parents want their children to follow in their footsteps. It's not that unusual."

"You don't understand. You think they're just nice, normal people. And for the most part, at least to strangers, they are. But you don't know, you just don't know."

"Then tell me."

He was staring at the ground, but he glanced at her now. "Right. You'd understand this. You with your perfect, happy, loving family."

"Greg, all families have problems. We're not perfect."

"Compared to my family, you're the Brady Bunch."

"Greg…"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

She watched him, saw how he closed down completely. She wanted to help him with this, but she could tell that he wasn't ready to talk about it. She stood up and reached out a hand.

"Come on, let's go back to my house and watch some TV."

He took her hand, rose and walked with her back to the car.


	13. Chapter 13

**Over 1500 hits and 12 reviews? Come on people, throw me a bone here! I need to know that you guys are enjoying this -- or not. Next chapter moves to M rating, so be prepared.**

**Thanks to those who do review - I REALLY appreciate it.**

Chapter 13

Although there had been some major make-out sessions with those amazing kisses, they hadn't had sex. He knew she was a virgin, a Catholic girl, from a very strict and traditional family. She made it very clear to him that she was not ready for a sexual relationship between them.

But every time they went out, the kissing got more intense and longer. Each time, he got very excited and had a full hard-on that was not being relieved. He ended up at home in the shower or his bed, relieving himself. He was totally frustrated.

He tried to talk to her about it, but she wouldn't consider changing her mind. Although she was just as excited as he was, she felt it was her responsibility to say no to sex. But each time, he would brush her breast or reach under her shirt to caress her bare skin, or move his hand down to her butt and she let him get a little further, but then would stop him.

The frustration was making him crazy. He didn't want to force her or even coerce her into doing anything she didn't want to do. He cared too much about her for that. But he knew that if he didn't have sex soon, he was going to explode.

It's possible that young men full of frustrated sexual energy let off a certain aura. Perhaps young women can pick it up. Or at least, certain young women can. Or maybe these young women are ready and willing with any young man who seems available. There were certainly young women at Greg's high school that were more than capable and agreeable to fulfilling a young man's sexual needs. And an attractive boy like Greg House didn't have to try very hard to have at least one of them interested in him.

This did bother Greg. He really cared about Marianne, maybe even loved her, although he felt it was early to be thinking that. Still, he respected her feelings about sex and Pamela Duvall had no inhibitions whatsoever and had made it very plain that she would be happy to accommodate him. So when he was making weekend plans with Marianne and found that she had to babysit on Saturday night, he called Pamela and arranged a date.

He was getting ready for his date with Pamela when the telephone rang. Since his parents were out for the evening, he raced to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Greg, it's me." Marianne said.

"Uh, hi." He replied, wondering why she was calling.

'Good news! I don't have to babysit! They just called to cancel. So I can see you."

"Uh…great!" What was he to do now? He told Marianne he would be over in a bit, then hung up and called Pamela. He made an excuse about his parents needing him to do something. Being the girl she was, it didn't really matter. She only had to make a phone call and she would have another date. He told her he would call her again and got ready to go to see Marianne.

When Marianne hung up the phone after talking to Greg, she sat by it, thinking. Greg sounded very strange. Whenever a babysitting job cancelled, she called him and he was always happy that he didn't have to spend a Saturday night alone. But he had sounded almost upset that she had called. Something was going on and she was going to find out what it was.

He came to her house and they went for a drive. They ended up in El Paso, by the river, where they found a place to park. His arm snaked around her and he pulled her close. Before long they were kissing. God, how he loved her kisses! They were the most amazing kisses. His hand reached under her shirt and started to caress her bare skin. He slowly moved it up until it was under the back of bra. From there, he could move his hand to the side was soon caressing the side of her breast.

Marianne knew where all this was heading: a heavy make-out session, where he tried to go as far as he could and she stopped him before it could go too far. But she needed some questions answered first.

"Greg, stop. I need to talk to you."

He continued to kiss and caress her, ignoring her words.

"Greg, please. I really need to talk to you."

Her words finally penetrated his sexual haze and he stopped.

"What? What could you possibly want to talk about right now?"

She pulled away from him and sat back. "I want to ask you about tonight. What were you planning on doing if I did have to babysit?"

He looked away from her. Shit, he thought, why was she asking this now? "Um, why? What's the difference?"

"Because when I talked to you on the phone, you sounded like you had other plans. I mean if you'd made plans, you didn't have to see me tonight."

"No, no, nothing like that. I wanted to see you."

"But had you made some other plans?"

"What difference does it make? I'm with you now, right? That's all that matters."

She sat and stared ahead for a few moments before saying, "I just want you to be honest with me."

He was starting to get angry. Not only had he missed out on sex tonight – finally – but he was also missing out on a good make-out session with all of her questions. His anger and frustration built until he turned to her and said, "You want honesty? Here it is: I'm seventeen years old and I want to have sex. I mean, I really want to have sex. I can't wait much longer, I'm gonna explode!"

"Greg, I told you…"

"I know. And I respect your feelings, I respect you, I really, REALLY do. That's why I'm not pressuring you." He saw her face and added, "No, I'm not. I don't expect you to have sex with me, I understand that you can't. But I have to have sex and soon."

It took her a few moments before realization struck. "You want to have sex with someone other than me?"

"No, I want to have sex with you. But since I can't, I want to have sex with anyone who is willing."

"You want to break up with me?

"NO! Marianne, I care about you. I lo-like when we're together. Being with you is great. Kissing you is fantastic. But you don't want to have sex and I respect that."

"So you're going to have sex with someone and…"

"It's just sex. It has nothing to do with you. You're my girlfriend and I want to be with you. I'll just have someone else that I have sex with."

She was shocked. She sat silently for awhile, just staring out the window. Finally, she spoke.

"No, Greg. It can't be that way."

"What do you mean?"

"If you're with me, you're with me and only me. If you need something else, then you need to go find something else. But I won't be sitting home and waiting until you're done sleeping with some other girl."

"Marianne, it's just sex, it doesn't mean anything."

"Maybe not to you. But it means something to me. I can't say goodnight to you and know that you're going to someone else. I can't greet you knowing that you just came from another girl's arms. I just can't do that."

"Can't you understand…"

"Oh, Greg, I do understand! I understand your needs. I understand all of that. But you need to understand that I need to know that my boyfriend is only with me. It's just the way I am."

"But…"

"I think you need to take me home now."

"Fine." He said. He was angry now. If she wanted to be a pain in the ass about this, then so be it. He could now go and get himself laid without feeling guilty.


	14. Chapter 14

The story changes to an M rating now. Hope that's nto a problem for anyone. Thanks to those who have left comments. I really appreciate it!

Chapter 14

He called Pamela the next day, but she had plans for the next weekend. It would be almost two weeks before they could get together. He was anxious, but he had no choice but to wait. In the meantime, he was forced to see Marianne at school. It was a lot like when they first met and he had tried to avoid her, but there was a difference. This time she didn't look sad when he saw her, this time she arrogantly ignored him.

Marianne was angry and sad, but she wasn't going to give Greg House the satisfaction of seeing either of those emotions on her. They passed in homeroom and in the cafeteria and she ignored him as if he was insignificant to her. It was only at home, in the privacy of her own bedroom, late at night that she cried over him. She knew she loved him, but she knew she was right to do what she did. If she allowed him to do what he had proposed, what sort of precedent would that set for them? If there was a future for them, they had to be honest and faithful to each other.

After a frustrating week, Pamela called him and rescheduled the date because something came up. He knew that "something" was probably a football player. An even more frustrating week later, the time for his date with Pamela finally arrived. He dressed carefully and left to pick her up. He wasn't sure of the etiquette involved in this. Was he supposed to take her out to dinner or to a movie or something? Or were they supposed to just get down to business? He decided to play it by ear and see what happened.

Pamela was a blonde, definitely bleached, with big brown eyes. She was very curvy, bordering on fat. He knew that in a few years, the curves would probably turn to fat, but right now she was pretty and sexy. Not too bright, but that didn't really matter to her popularity in school.

He picked her up and then nervously asked, "Um, what do you want to do?"

She looked at him and said in her Texas drawl, "Well, sugar, I thought you wanted to play tonight."

He swallowed and started to get excited. This was going to happen, he was going to get laid! He immediately pushed the vision of Marianne that popped into his head out of it and concentrated on the hot girl beside him.

"Sure, yeah, that's what I want. I meant, where do you want to…"

"Oh, just drive on up the interstate, there's a motel there that's just fine for what we wanna do."

He drove and soon found the motel. It was a dive, but it was cheap. He pulled in and parked. After paying for a room and getting a key, he took Pamela to the room. By the time he locked the door and turned around, she was lying on the bed smiling at him. She pulled up her shirt to reveal a black lace bra. Her jean-clad legs were crossed as she lay there. She had undone the top button.

He started to get excited. A girl was going to have sex with him! Tonight! This was it! He started to unbutton his shirt as quickly as he could. She pushed her jeans down, until she only had black lace panties on. He took off his jeans as well and moved towards the bed.

Suddenly, instead of Pamela, he saw Marianne lying there. Okay, he thought, he could imagine it was Marianne. He did that every time he whacked off anyway. Except that Marianne's face as he saw it was not looking lustful and excited as Pamela's had. It was looking sad and disappointed.

What the hell was this? He shook his head to clear the vision and saw Pamela smiling seductively. Okay, this was better. He approached the bed, slipping off his briefs as he did so. His cock was starting to inflate, he was getting more excited. He sat on the bed next to her and reached out to touch her. As his hand met her skin, she purred. He smiled and once again saw Marianne.

His cock began to deflate. This was not good. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard. She immediately pushed out her tongue and licked his lips. He opened his mouth and their tongues met. It was a totally hot kiss.

And it left him totally cold. He kept thinking of the amazing kisses he shared with Marianne. Even though there was no sex involved with them, they were still so much more exciting.

Okay, he thought, there's more to sex than kissing. He moved his hand up and down her skin. She pulled off her bra and he saw her incredible breasts. She smiled smugly and said, "Do you what you want to them, sugar."

But he didn't want to do anything with them. God, what was the matter here? She was totally hot and totally willing. Why didn't he want to do what he had been anxious to do for so long? He was determined to make this happen.

He touched her breasts, gingerly at first and then with more pressure. She began to moan and writhe on the bed.

Wait a minute, he thought, he had barely done anything to her. Either she was so super sensitive that she exploded as soon as a man touched her – in which case she would be exploding all the time, because guys touched her all the time – or she was faking it. Maybe he hadn't gotten beyond first base with Marianne, but everything was real, including her response to him.

He pulled back and looked at her. She looked up expectantly. "What's wrong, sugar? If you need a little help, I can take care of that too."

He suddenly knew that he didn't belong here with this girl. It was all wrong. He turned away from her and said, "I think I made a mistake. Can we just leave?"

She was non-plussed. "If that's what you want, sugar. But I need you to buy me a hamburger."

"Sure, no problem."

They got dressed and left the motel. He drove her to the hamburger stand where most of the kids from school went. They went in and he bought her a cheeseburger, French fries and a black and white milkshake. He wasn't hungry. As he was getting the food, she saw people she knew and went over to join them. By the time he brought her food to her, she was already wedged between two members of the football team.

"Greg," she said, "Bo and Dickie are gonna take me home. Is that okay?"

"Sure." He said, happy to be rid of her and thinking what guy lets his nickname be Dickie?

He got into his car and started driving. He didn't know where he wanted to go, but he knew he didn't want to go home. He drove aimlessly for awhile, not paying attention to where he was. When he finally slowed down and looked up to see where he was, he saw a familiar house in front of him. He just shook his head and accepted the inevitable. He parked the car and walked up to the door.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Marianne was in her room, drawing. She drew when she was happy. She drew when she was sad. She drew when there was something on her mind that she had to figure out. She drew when she wanted to forget about everything. She just drew all the time. When the doorbell rang, she was knocked out of her concentration. Since she was alone in the house, she went down to see who was at the door. She wasn't expecting anyone and didn't worry about the stained jeans and ratty t-shirt she was wearing or the fact that her hair was pulled to the very top of her head in a ponytail and she had no makeup on. It was probably someone from the base with a message for her dad.

When she opened the door and saw Greg standing there, she almost fainted.

Great, she thought, I don't see him for a couple weeks and then I look like this!

Greg thought she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him.

He looked at his feet, then turned his head and looked out at the lawn, before turning back to her.

"I don't know." He said. "But I had to see you."

"Things not work out with Pamela the slut?"

"How did you know…"

"Oh, please, Greg! Everyone knows she'll sleep with anyone with an anatomy different from hers. And I saw her hanging on you last week. So how could you not score with the queen of the one night stands?"

"I could! I did, I mean…"

"That's great. Well, nice talking to you. I don't need to hear all the sordid details. And I told you before, I'm no other girl's sloppy seconds."

She started to close the door, but he reached out his hand and stopped her.

"No, you do need to hear this. I went out with Pamela tonight. And we went to a motel."

"Greg, I really…"

"Please listen. She was willing, I was right there, ready to finally get laid. But I couldn't. She was…fake. She was not right. She wasn't you and, damnit, I kept seeing you. And I wanted you. If I'm not having sex with you, I'm not having sex at all." He paused. "Meg, I love you."

Her eyes immediately filled with tears and in moments, she was sobbing.

"Aw, geez, I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry, I'll leave."

"No, no! Greg!" she swallowed quickly. "No, I don't want you to leave! I can't believe you…oh, Greg, I love you too!"

She launched herself into his arms. He caught her and pulled her close to him. His lips met hers in a soul-searing kiss. They held that for some time, before they broke apart and smiled at each other.

"We should probably go inside." She said. "I don't want the neighbors talking."

"Okay."

They went in and sat down on the sofa. He fingered the ponytail on top of her head.

"So, what's with the fountain?"

She hastily pulled off the rubber band, letting her hair fall in disarray around her. "I was getting ready to put it up…oh, never mind. I know I look awful, but I wasn't expecting company."

She started to comb her fingers through the hair, trying to straighten it out, but his hand stopped her.

"I think you look beautiful."

"Greg, are you sure you don't want to be with a girl who will sleep with you?"

"I want you. I only want you."

She smiled at him and kissed him again. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. He would have taken it further, but she stopped him.

"This really isn't a good idea. My parents could come home any minute."

He sighed. "You're right. So, what do you want to do?"

"We could watch TV?"

He thought about it. He could have gotten laid by the easiest girl in school or he could sit here and watch TV with the best girl in school. He smiled. "Anything good on?"

She reached for the TV Guide on the table.

"Let's see." She thumbed through it and read the listings for Saturday. Then he saw her eyes light up.

"Oh, my God! 'Sunshine' is on!"

"What's that?"

"You never saw 'Sunshine'? Oh God, it's beautiful! It's a TV movie from a couple years ago. It's about this guy and girl and they're in love. And she has a baby. But then she finds out she's dying and so she makes all these tapes so that her daughter will know her someday when she's grown up and the woman is gone. Oh, it's so sad!"

"Sounds stupid to me."

"No, it's wonderful. And the music! It's all John Denver's songs and it's great."

"John Denver? That just sealed it for me—stupid."

"No, please, Greg? Can we watch it? I really want to."

She looked so pretty asking him, that he relented and they watched the movie. It was totally sappy, with music that fit the silly sentimental mood. But Marianne was so entranced and held on to him during the whole thing. The songs were either played on the soundtrack with John Denver singing or by the movie's lead who was supposed to be a singer and was played by an actor named Cliff DeYoung.

Marianne totally swooned when the main characters got married and the song played was 'My Sweet Lady.'

"I love that song. I want that song played when I get married." She said dreamily.

"Yeah, like your Catholic church is going to let you have that song at a mass."

"I don't care," she said, "I'll find a way."

He just smiled and pulled her closer to him. He had started out the night with an almost certainty of getting laid. He was ending the night, still a virgin and watching a stupid, soap opera movie. He had never been happier.


	16. Chapter 16

I'm happy that there are so many people reading this story. I'm even happier when people leave reviews (hint, hint). Hope everyone is still enjoying it. Thanks!

Chapter 16

During the next two weeks, he stopped worrying about getting laid. He didn't stop thinking about it – he was a normal male, after all – but he realized he could either try to have sex or he could be with Marianne. He wanted to be with Marianne. So he saw her as much as he could, they had their heavy make-out sessions and he went home and relieved himself. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best he was going to get and he was satisfied – well, almost.

Marianne also thought about the physical aspect of their relationship. Every time they were together, it went a little further. His hands had been on her breast and even inside her pants. His mouth had been on her breast as well. She had touched him too, reaching into his jeans. They hadn't been totally naked with each other and they obviously hadn't had intercourse. But he had stimulated her to climax. She wondered if she could still be considered a virgin? Technically, she supposed, but still…

She loved him. She knew in her heart that she would love this guy forever. It wasn't just a teenage romance, he was special. She didn't know if there was a future for them, but she knew she would always love him.

Her feelings and her desire for him were warring with her upbringing. Was it really a sin to sleep with someone you loved as much as she loved Greg? Was God that cruel as to not allow those who loved to express it? As much as she loved and respected her family, and obeyed the rules of her church, she was almost eighteen and had to make her own decisions about her life.

After going to the movies one night, they drove to a spot near the river that was one of their favorite make-out locations. He pulled into his arms and began kissing her. She kissed him back and ran her hands through his hair. His hands started working up her back and under her bra. She responded by running her hands under his shirt and up his chest. He took his right hand and snapped open her bra. She moaned as he released her breasts and began to caress her breasts and finger her nipples. While one hand worked on her breasts, the other moved down and slipped inside her jeans. He reached down as far as he could and was soon touching her most sensitive area.

Marianne was moaning as he touched her. She knew she should stop him now before they went any further. But it felt so good and she loved him so much. All the thoughts and decisions that she had been trying to come to terms with, came to a head at that moment. What did she want? What did SHE want? It was time for her to make up HER mind.

Then Greg moved his hand and his fingers caressed her. She couldn't stand it anymore. She reached down.

He felt her move her hand. This was the point where she usually stopped him. He sighed, waiting for her to pull his hand out. Instead, she reached for the button on her jeans and undid it, then started to unzip them.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"What do you think?"

"Marianne, if you pull down your jeans, I don't know if I'll be able to stop… I mean I.."

"I didn't say that I want you to stop."

Greg looked at her, not really believing what he was hearing. "Do you mean that you want to…?"

"I think I do."

"You don't' have to. I understand. I love you and I just want to be with you. It doesn't have to be sex."

"I know." She smiled at him. "I think that's why I'm ready now. You didn't pressure me. This is my decision."

His heart did a little leap. He was going to get laid! No, he was going to make love to Marianne.

"Greg, do you have a- a-?"

"A rubber? Yeah, don't worry."

She smiled. Even though she wanted this, she was still a little nervous. He started removing his clothes, so she did the same, then sat back on the car seat. He was smiling at her. He reached out and touched her breast. Even though he had touched them before, she pulled back a little.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm a little nervous."

"It's okay." He told her. He was a little nervous himself, but he didn't want to admit that to her. "I'll take it slow, don't worry."

He reached over and kissed her gently. This was good, they knew the kisses were wonderful. The kiss grew in intensity and soon their mouths had parted and their tongues were mating. Greg could feel himself getting hard. He knew he would be ready in moments, but he had to take it easy for her sake. He may not have been experienced, but he knew that a first time for a girl was sometimes painful. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. She might never want to do it again if he did. Besides that, he cared for her and wanted her to enjoy it too.

She could feel his arousal against her. It was an odd, novel feeling. Curious, she reached out and touched it. He moaned and she immediately pulled back her hand.

"No, don't stop." He whispered.

"I thought I hurt you."

"God, no! That feels great."

She reached out again and touched his penis. She ran her fingers lightly up and down. He groaned again and she increased the pressure. At the same time, he was caressing her sensitive area. They were both getting excited and ready for more. He grabbed his pants that he'd thrown on the floor and pulled the condom out of his pocket. He was fully aroused now and easily put the rubber on, even though his hands were shaking.

He lay on top of her and continued to caress her. "Are you ready?" he asked her.

"Yes." She said breathlessly.

He positioned himself and slowly entered her. He heard her intake of breath and took it even slower, although his body was telling him to go, go, GO! Finally, he reached the barrier and taking a breath, he breached it. He heard her whimper and stopped immediately.

"I know, Meg, I know, but it'll be okay, I promise." With that, he pushed all the way in and was soon pumping up and down. Years of pent up sexual frustration and it didn't take him long. Soon he was exploding and crying out in ecstasy. He collapsed on top of her, saying, "That was unbelievable. God, that was great!"

After a few moments, he lifted his head and looked at her. She did not look as happy as he felt. Shit, he thought, this wasn't good.

"Meg, I know it wasn't good for you. There were things I should have done for you, shit, I know that you, ah, shit, shit shit!"

"It's okay, Greg."

"No, it's not. But I promise you, I absolutely promise you that if we do this again, it will be terrific for you. I promise." He looked at her earnestly. "Will we do this again?"

She hesitated for a moment, then smiled at him. "Yes."

He knew he had to make the next time special for her – in every way.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The next time was a week later and it was her birthday. He told her he had something planned for them. He picked her up at five o'clock and they drove to a state park that had lots of secluded areas. He parked, and from the trunk of his car removed a cooler, a blanket and his guitar. He gave her the blanket and he carted the other items. They went to their favorite spot and she laid out the blanket. He put down the cooler and opened it, pulling out some cans of beer for himself and some soda for her. She still didn't drink.

He handed her a wrapped sandwich and took one for himself. They sat there, side by side, eating and drinking and enjoying the sunset. When they finished, he wiped his hands and reached for his guitar.

"Oh, what are you going to play?" She loved hearing him play, even though most of it was hard rock.

He gave her a sly grin and sat down facing her, with the guitar in his hands. He started strumming it lightly. As the soft notes filled the air, she frowned. It was familiar, but she wasn't sure until she heard him start to sing:

_Lady, are you crying? Do your tears belong to me?_

_ Did you think our time together was all gone?_

_ Lady, you've been dreaming, I'm as close as I can be_

_ And I swear to you our time has just begun._

_ Close your eyes and rest your weary mind._

_I promise I will stay right here beside you._

_ Today our lives were joined, became entwined_

_ And I wish that you could know how much I love you._

_ Lady, are you happy? Do you feel the way I do?_

_ Are there meanings that you've never felt before?_

_ Lady, my sweet lady, I just can't believe it's true._

_ It's like I've never, ever loved before._

_ Close your eyes and rest your weary mind._

_ I promise I will stay right here beside you._

_ Today our lives were joined, became entwined_

_ And I wish that you could know how much I love you._

_ Lady, are you crying? Do the tears belong to me?_

_ Did you think our time together was all gone?_

_ Lady, my sweet lady, I'm as close as I can be_

_ And I swear to you our time has just begun._

When he was finished, he put the guitar down and looked at her. There were tears running down her face, but she was smiling.

"You hate John Denver." She told him.

"But I love you."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Before long, they were lying on the blanket and removing clothing. He pulled out a rubber and when he was ready, slipped it on.

This time he took it very slow, watching her face for her reactions. As he could see the passion rise in her eyes, he increased the intensity. By the time he was inside her, she was totally ready for him. Her responses matched his and together they soared.

Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms. He held her close to him and caressed her arm, while she played with the reddish brown hair on his chest.

"Is everything okay now?" he asked her.

"Yes, everything is wonderful."

He pulled his head back a bit to look at her. "You're not regretting this, are you?"

"No, Greg, I'm not regretting this. I love you and nothing has ever felt more right to me."

He pulled her close to him once more, kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes.

"Yeah," he told her, "Nothing's ever felt so right to me either."


	18. Chapter 18

**As some have said, this is the calm before the storm. I get really motivated when people review - hint, hint!**

**BTW, her prom gown is a description of my own gown from 1975! (Boy, am I old!)**

Chapter 18

Their senior prom was approaching. Greg had asked her almost immediately after they got back together, so Marianne had plenty of time to plan for it. She and her mother went into El Paso to look for the perfect dress. It took a few Saturdays, but they finally found it at a little dress shop. In the style of the late seventies, it was a dark pink floral with a empire waist line. The organdy over satin dress had spaghetti straps and a pink velvet ribbon around the waist. There was also a short jacket in the same fabric, with a pink chiffon ruffle on the cuffs and around the neck. The entire look was lovely with Marianne's coloring.

Greg went to rent a tux and tried to find one that wouldn't make him puke. The seventies were know for ostentatious tuxes for men. Lots of brocades and velvets, etc. He couldn't see himself in anything like that. He searched the store and avoided all the flashy suits the other Texas high school boys were going for and finally found a dark gray tux with satin lapels. Marianne had told him that her dress was pink, and that gray or black would go well with it. So he figured he was safe with this. Then he went to the florist and ordered her a wrist corsage of tiny pink rosebuds.

The night of the prom, he arrived at her house to find her family and some neighbors there, all taking pictures. There seemed to be a party going on. He tried to stand still, as camera after camera snapped pictures of them. When they were finally done, he remembered that his mother wanted to see them as well, so they drove to his house. Of course, his father was there too.

His mother was excited to see them, but his father just watched them, not speaking while Blythe snapped some pictures. Greg suffered through the pictures, but as soon as he could, he moved Marianne to the door. His father put his hand on his arm and pulled him back. Speaking in a low voice so that the women couldn't hear, he said, "Don't let your dick get in the way of your future, boy."

"What?" Greg asked.

"You heard me. I see how you're looking at her. If you're not having sex with her yet, you want to. A man can screw up his future in no time with a girl like that."

Greg glared at his father. He wanted to say something, he wanted to punch him in his smug face. But this was their prom and Marianne would be upset if he did anything now. He turned away and led his date out of the house and to their prom.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Graduation day was exciting. When they announced who won scholarships, Marianne sat up smiling as they said: "Full scholarship to John Hopkins University – Gregory House." She couldn't have been prouder if it had been her own name announced. She hoped his parents were just as proud, but she knew his father would never say he was. Such a shame.

As soon as the ceremony was finished, she ran to find him and hugged him. "Isn't this wonderful? We're graduates!"

He smiled at her. He wasn't as excited as she was, but her enthusiasm was infectious and he couldn't help feel his own excitement grow. Her family gathered around them, hugging her and him as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his parents standing a little way off. His mother was smiling, but his father looked displeased at the show of affection the Gregory family was displaying.

He sighed and told Marianne, "I have to go see my parents. I'll be right back."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

He shook his head and walked towards them. She watched him walk away. His mother hugged him, pride all over her face. His father shook his hand, a solemn look on his face. She just sighed. How could that man be so cold to Greg?

Greg shook his father's hand and tried to avoid looking in the older man's eyes.

To mark his graduation, Greg's parents took him out to dinner at a nice restaurant. Marianne was invited and the four of them ate and tried to talk about things that would keep the peace. John House kept making digs at the fact that Greg was foolish for not joining the marines, but Blythe and Marianne kept steering the conversation away from the subject.

Marianne's family threw a huge party to celebrate her graduation. Family and friends were there. Her parents had invited Greg's mother and father, but they politely declined. John House did not think it would be seemly for an officer to be fraternizing with an enlisted man.

It didn't matter. The party at the Gregory home was a huge success. There was more food than Greg had ever seen in his life, along with music and dancing and laughter.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After graduation, Greg and Marianne had plans to spend some time alone. She had told her parents that one of her friends had invited her to spend the weekend at the beach with them. Through begging and pleading, she had gotten them to allow her to go.

Greg didn't have as hard a time getting away, but his father still questioned him about it. He had turned eighteen the day before graduation and wasn't afraid to exert his independence.

So they managed to sneak out of both their homes and were soon in his car and heading southwest. They crossed the border into Mexico and stopped when they got to Ciudad Juarez. It was a typical Mexican tourist town. They arrived at midday and checked into their hotel. Greg had already made a reservation and even though it was a modest room and a small hotel, it was all theirs for the weekend.

As soon as they got to their hotel room, they looked at the double bed and smiled at each other. So far, they had never made love in a bed. The backseat of a car, a blanket in the park, yes. A bed, no. They fell into each other's arms.

Afterwards, they got dressed and took a walk around the hotel. They found a little restaurant and sat down to eat spicy Mexican tacos and other native foods. Greg was able to get a beer. Marianne decided on a coke. They fed each other food, smiled, laughed. It was wonderful.

When dinner was over, they found a bar playing music and went in. They danced for hours, the way only the young can. When they were finally too exhausted to dance anymore, they returned to the hotel and started a different type of dance.

The next day, they walked around the town some more. Greg bought them maracas and sombreros and they acted silly for a while.

As they walked through the Mexican town, Marianne asked him why his father wasn't pleased that he had won a scholarship.

"Because he won't be pleased unless I become a carbon copy of him. All my life he's tried to make me something I can never be or never want to be."

"He just had your best interest at heart."

"Yeah, right."

"He's your father, he loves you."

"Your father loves you. You don't know how my father feels. You don't' know what he's…never mind."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter. I'll be leaving home soon, it's over."

His words gave Marianne a bad feeling, but she knew when he didn't want to discuss something, so she dropped it. Besides, they were almost finished with their weekend. She didn't want it ending on an unhappy note.

They found a little cantina and ate lunch. She tried to lighten his mood by being silly again. At first he resisted her, then, eventually, he started to smile with her and laugh.

After lunch, they returned to the hotel and made love once more before checking out. As they drove back to Fort Bliss, they thought they couldn't be happier and that nothing could ever part them.


	19. Chapter 19

Reviews make me happy...

Chapter 19

It was a wonderful summer. They spent every moment that they could together. Greg still worked at the commissary and Marianne babysat every morning for a lady who worked all night as a nurse and needed to sleep in the morning. She had toddler twins, so Marianne would get them up and dressed, give them breakfast, entertain them all morning and then feed them their lunch and put them down for a nap. She would leave then, as the mother would wake up before the twins did.

This gave them most evenings and weekends together. They went to see a lot of movies. One of their favorites was a new one that had come out at the end of May. Greg suggested it while looking in the newspaper movie listings.

"This movie is supposed to be really good. Some of the guys saw it." He told her.

"Oh, yeah, I want to go see something 'the guys' recommended. I'm sure I'll love it." She said sarcastically.

"No, it's different. I didn't hear a lot about it before it came out, but everyone who goes really likes it."

"What's it called and what's it about?"

"It's called 'Star Wars' and it's about guys flying around in cool spaceships"

"Oh, Greg, please! That really doesn't interest me."

"Come on, I'll go to one of your love stories if you come to this."

She reluctantly agreed and they went to see it. When they came out, Marianne was amazed.

"I never thought I would like anything like that, but oh, my God! That was the coolest!"

"See? I told you."

"It was like a fairy tale in outer space. And the guy playing Han Solo? What was his name?"

"I think it was Harrison Ford."

"He was so cute."

Greg didn't like her thinking any guy except him was cute, but he was glad that she liked what he thought was one of the best movies he'd ever seen.

They went to see it twice more that summer. It became a running joke to say "May the force be with you," every time they parted.

As the summer progressed, they grew closer to the time they would have to part. Greg's scholarship was taking him to Baltimore. Marianne was staying in Texas, maybe to attend the Community College.

June moved into July. They sat in the park watching the fireworks on the Fourth of July. His arm was around her and he thought about how right it felt to have her beside him. As excited as he was to go away to school, the thought of leaving her behind was killing him.

July had become August and he was leaving for college in a little over a week, when he said to her one evening, "Why don't you come with me?"

"Come with you where?"

"To Baltimore."

She looked at him incredulously. "You're kidding? How could I do that?"

"You pack up your stuff, get in my car with me and we go to Baltimore."

"But Greg…"

"Look, we'll get an apartment. There's a community college there if you still want to go. Or you can just get a job. I'll get a part time one. We could do it."

She was quiet for a moment before saying, "Greg, as wonderful as that sounds, I can't go with you."

"Why not?"

"My parents would never allow it."

"Your parents don't have any say! You're eighteen. You can do whatever you want."

"Greg, you know how I feel about my parents. I love and respect them. I would never do anything to hurt them that way."

"But you'll hurt me? I thought you loved and respected me too?"

Tears started to well in her eyes. "Please don't make me choose between you. You know I love you, but I can't hurt them by going across the country to live with my boyfriend. We'll write and talk on the phone. And you'll come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. And maybe they won't mind if I take a trip out there."

He was not happy. He wanted her with him. He knew that she would not defy her parents, despite her age. Still, he wasn't going to let her off easy on this.

"Jesus, you're eighteen! How long are you gonna stay under mommy and daddy's rule?"

"Greg, you know my family is different from yours. I can't hurt them that way."

"Living your own life is hurting them? Parents should want their kid to grow up and move on."

"Not like this. They're very traditional. Going off to live with my boyfriend would be wrong to them."

"Then I guess they'd be really shocked to know what we've been doing these last months, huh?"

"That's not funny."

"Meg, do you seriously believe they don't know?"

She just stared at him. "Of course they don't."

"They're not stupid and they were young once too."

"They trust me."

"Well, we know how wrong they were to do that."

The look she gave him contained hurt and pain. "That's just mean. You know how hard it was for me. I only did this because I love you so much. There is no need to hurt me."

'I'm sorry. But you've already defied them to do what you wanted. Why not go all the way and live your life the way you want it?"

"Because I don't know if that's what I want!"

He stood very still, watching her. "You don't want to be with me?"

"I want to be with you. But I don't know if I want to be with you like that. I'm pretty traditional too."

"Yeah, that was pretty traditional behavior last night when we…"

"Greg! Don't be crude."

"Marianne, you can't have it both ways. You can't sleep with me every night and still be the good little Catholic girl during the day. Either you love me and you want to be with me or this is just a game or something and once I leave you'll go back to being mommy and daddy's little princess."

"This isn't a game." She said with a cry in her voice. "I love you so much it hurts. But there are a lot of things to consider before I go to Baltimore with you. Before I leave my home and family to live with you."

"Yeah, I guess you have to consider whether you're a grown-up or a little girl." He stood up. "I've got packing to do. I'll see you later."

He left. As she watched him get into his car and pull away, she burst into tears.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

He didn't call her or see her for the next few days. He was still so angry and hurt that she wouldn't go with him. Finally, it was the day he was to leave. He was putting boxes into the trunk of his car, when he sensed someone watching him. He looked up and saw her standing there.

She was wearing white jeans that fell just below her waistline and a red tank top that emphasized her figure. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and she wore a trace of makeup.

"Hi." She said.

"Hi." He replied.

"I just wanted to say goodbye to you before you left."

He nodded.

"Are you all packed?" She asked.

"Just about."

"That's good." She hesitated, then handed him a small package. "Oh, I got you this for your dorm room."

He took it from her. He stared at the square package wrapped in bright blue paper. "Do you want me to open it now?'

She shrugged. "If you want to."

Slowly he unwrapped the paper to find a small, framed plaque. It was hand lettered and drawn. He recognized the drawing as hers. It was of a guy and girl. He could see the resemblance to the two of them, although they were more whimsical than life like. The figures were in obviously different locations, but their fingers were touching. The lettering beneath said: 'apart…together, now…forever.'

"I started that a while ago. You may not want it now, but since it was done, I figured I'd give it to you."

He just stared at the picture for a while, not speaking. She sighed, then turned and started walking down the street. He continued to hold the plaque, thinking, then looked up. When he saw that she wasn't there, he looked around and saw her walking away. He couldn't bear to see her walk away from him. He started to run.

"Marianne!" he yelled.

She turned around. He caught up with her then, but wasn't sure what to say. He just looked at her while she stared back, her dark eyes full of unshed tears.

"This," he said, indicating the plaque. "Is really great. I love it." He hesitated again, then with his head down, said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you on the spot. That's a big decision to make all at once. You've changed so much for me, it wasn't right for me to ask you to…"

"Oh, Greg, it was okay that you asked. It just isn't the right time, not now."

"I love you."

"I love you too." The tears were coming now. "I think I will always love you."

He pulled her into his arms and held onto her. They kissed frantically. She cried openly, soaking his shirt with her tears.

"Don't cry, baby. Please. We'll see each other soon. I promise. I'm not going to leave you. Believe me. Okay? OKAY?"

She nodded, sniffing to stop the tears. "I believe you, Greg."

They stood like that for a time, afraid to let go of each other. Finally she said. "You have to go. You need to get on the road before it's too late. I don't want you too tired to drive."

He touched her face once more, then said, "I know. It's just hard to let go of you."

They walked back to his car. She sat on the curb, while he went into the house to say goodbye to his parents. His mother came outside with him and hugged him, telling him to be careful and to call as soon as he got there.

Marianne hugged him too, burying her face in his shirt to inhale his scent one more time. She knew she would have to remember it for a long time.

He got into the car and started the engine. He smiled at his mother, then gave Marianne a long look before waving to the both of them and heading off down the street. He looked in the rear view mirror and saw her waving at him, sadness on her face. He took a deep breath to keep the tears from coming to him as well.

Marianne stood there waving at him and watching his car until it disappeared from view. She smiled at his mother, said goodbye to her and walked home. She had a feeling that would be the last time she saw Greg House.

That feeling was predicated on something she knew and some decisions she'd made. The week before, while Greg was not speaking to her, she had gone to El Paso for the day. Not to go shopping. She found a clinic, and, using a different name, had a check-up. After missing two periods, she was pretty sure what they would tell her. She was right.

She was pregnant.

She thought about telling Greg. She thought about what it would mean for them. She thought about what he had asked her. Going to live with him in Baltimore was a dream, a wonderful dream. But an unrealistic dream. This was her reality. A baby. His baby. But ultimately her baby and her responsibility.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Greg moved into his dorm, met his roommate and started to settle in to college life. He called Marianne and told her all about it. She was happy that he was enjoying it. She wanted him to succeed and to achieve his dreams.

He called her often. At first she talked to him. But then she began to realize that she couldn't keep talking to him and do what was right for him. She began to avoid his calls.

In October, she finally found the courage to tell her parents about the baby. Her mother cried, her father looked hurt and disappointed. He started to rail against Greg, but she stopped him.

"It was as much my fault as his, Dad. Please don't blame him."

"What's he going to do about it?"

"Nothing." she said. "He doesn't know."

"What do you mean? You haven't told him yet?"

"No. And I don't intend to tell him. There's no need for him to know."

"He's the baby's father!"

"He can't do anything right now. He's in college. He has a lot to accomplish. Maybe, someday…we'll see. But right now, I'm going to do this myself."

Her parents tried to convince her. They argued with her, fought with her, did everything they could, but she was adamant. She was going to do this alone, without Greg House.

Her father had held off accepting a transfer while she finished high school. Now, with everything that was happening with Marianne, he figured this was a good time to leave Fort Bliss.

Marianne agreed, but didn't want to move with them. She knew that her father's career was dependent on his ability to move at will. It was also important that he keep up a certain appearance

But before he left, he had one thing to do. He went to see Major House.

He knocked on his office door and went in when he heard "Enter."

"Sir, I don't know if you remember me, sir. I'm Sergeant Gregory. Marianne is my daughter."

"I remember you Sergeant. What can I do for you?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"As you know, sir, my daughter and your son dated for several months."

"I am aware of that, Sergeant."

"Sir, my daughter just told me that she's pregnant."

John stared at Joe Gregory for a moment, then said, "The reason you are telling me this is what, Sergeant?"

"Sir, you son is responsible."

"My son is in college. He is working towards his future. A future that does not include your slut of a daughter."

"My daughter is not a slut. She's a good girl…sir."

"Well, it would seem that what you just told me proves that statement wrong. Good girls don't get pregnant outside of marriage."

"Good girls that date boys who take advantage of them do…sir."

"I have no way of knowing how many boys your daughter was 'dating' this year. There is no way that you are going to pin this pregnancy on my son. He has things to accomplish and he doesn't need some whore and her bastard kid to tie him down. My son told me about his 'affair' with your daughter. We had a good laugh together about it. So, if you, or your daughter, think that you are going to find your way to Easy Street on the back of my family, think again, Sergeant. Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear…SIR."

Joe Gregory turned and left the office. 

Marianne called her Aunt Lily who lived in New York and made some arrangements. Her aunt had married young, but her husband had been killed in Vietnam. She never married again. Marianne and Lily had always been close and the older woman was thrilled to have her niece stay with her.

In November, Marianne moved to New York to live with her Aunt Lily. 

Marianne was torn. On the one hand, she was happy to be in New York with her beloved aunt. On the other, she missed Greg terribly. And the prospect of having a baby was exciting and scary too.

New York was a terrific city to live in. Aunt Lily took her shopping and to the theater. It was wonderful and exciting, but every night Marianne cried herself to sleep.

Lily worked for a successful businessman named Harry Newman. Harry was in his late thirties and had been successful with real estate and construction, resulting in a nice bank account. Lily was his personal assistant, but they were also friends. Harry depended on Lily to keep his life running smoothly. Lily loved her job and considered Harry to be her best friend. There was nothing romantic between them. But Harry was often a visitor in Lily's apartment and she was often in his town house to organize dinner parties for him. So, of course, Harry got to meet Lily's young niece.

Marianne was concerned that Lily's boss might not like the fact that her pregnant, unmarried niece was there, but she shouldn't have worried. Harry Newman was the most non-judgmental person she had ever met. Ultimately, the three of them spent many enjoyable evenings together, playing cards or board games. Sometimes they would sit around and watch old movies.

It was while they were playing a game of gin rummy one evening in March when her water broke. She was sitting there laughing over the game, when suddenly she felt a whoosh! 

Her eyes went wide and she cried out, "Oh!"

Both Lily and Harry looked at her wondering what happened. When Lily saw the look on her face, she realized what had happened.

"Honey, what's going on?" Lily asked her.

"I'm, um, all wet!" she whispered.

"Your water broke. We have to call your doctor and get you to the hospital."

"What? Why?" Harry asked.

"She's going to have the baby—tonight!"

"Oh, Jesus! Okay, what do you need me to do?"

"Call a taxi. No, call her doctor first. The number is over there by the phone. Then call a taxi. I'll get her ready to go. Come on, Marianne, let's get you cleaned up and packed."

Marianne got ready to leave, but as she waited for the taxi, she was afraid. This was really happening. She was having a baby. She so wished that Greg could be here with her. She needed to hear his voice before she did this. 

"Aunt Lily, get me my purse and the phone."

"Why?"

"Please, it's important."

Her aunt complied. Marianne took out a slip of paper and dialed a number. When the phone was answered, she said, "Could I speak with Greg House?"

The student who answered said, "Hold on."

She waited a few minutes, and then she heard him say, "Hello?"

She didn't answer, she didn't make a sound.

"Hello?" he said again. "Who is this?"

She bit her lip to keep herself from saying anything to him.

"Look, I have mid-terms. I don't have time for this. Either tell me who you are and what you want or I'm hanging up."

She had to hold her breath to stop from crying.

"Yeah, well, fuck you." He said as he slammed down the phone.

When he hung up, she let out a huge cry, then took a deep breath and said to Lily and Harry, "Okay, I'm ready now."

When they got to the hospital, Lily went in with her. She was her coach and she stayed with her. Before they did, Harry asked what they needed. Lily gave him a list and he nodded and told her he'd take care of it.

An hour and a half later, Michael Gregory came howling into the world. When Marianne looked at her son for the first time, she saw beautiful blue eyes staring up at her. The same blue eyes she had seen in that classroom and knew she would never forget.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

College was a lot of different things for Greg House. At first, it was exciting and exhilarating. He was on his own, away from his father and with people who were intelligent and wanted to learn. Of course he missed Marianne, but he called her a couple of times a week.

He thought about having her with him. Although he didn't agree with her reasons, he understood them. She had been raised a certain way and couldn't change her values for him. He began to realize that the only way he could have her with him was on her terms. And for some reason, those terms didn't scare him. Marianne was the girl he loved, the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was weird to figure that out when you were only eighteen, but maybe he had finally lucked out.

He was walking around Baltimore one day and saw a little jewelry store. Something made him go in and he was drawn to the case with the diamond rings. The clerk realized he was a college student and tried to get rid of him, but Greg was persistent. Finally, the clerk pulled out a tray of rings with very small diamonds. Greg saw one that was perfectly round and in a lovely setting with little gold filigree hearts surrounding the stone. The price wasn't too bad.

Greg made a decision then and there. He put a down payment on the ring. He came in weekly to pay for it. By the end of November, it would be his. He wanted to give it to her for Christmas.

Then, for some reason, when he called her, she wasn't there. She wouldn't call him back and their calls dwindled to once a week, then every two weeks. When he asked her, she said she was busy and he needed to concentrate on college, not worry about her.

He was going to go to Texas for Thanksgiving, mostly to be with her, but she told him she was going with her family to a relative's house. He tried to get her to invite him there, but she didn't. If she wasn't going to be in Texas, there was no reason for him to go home. He stayed at school.

By December, she had stopped speaking to him at all. He tried to talk to her, but when he called, one of her parents always said that she wasn't there. He couldn't understand what was happening. When he left, she was in love with him. Now she wouldn't speak to him. 

Two weeks before Christmas, he got a letter from her:

_"Dear Greg,_

_This is the hardest letter I have ever written. First of all, I want to tell you that I love you very much. But I just don't think this will work out. We both have so much to do with our lives. Maybe if we had met a few years later, who knows? But neither one of us is ready for a commitment. And considering the distance between us, I think it's really for the best if we end it now._

_My dad is being transferred, so I won't be living in Fort Bliss any more. I'm not going to give you my new address because I think it's best if we let this go._

_I will always care about you and I loved every minute that we spent together. Thank you for everything._

_All my love,_

_Marianne"_

Greg sneered when he read it. Yeah, sure, hardest letter she ever had to write. What a bunch of bull. She was probably already banging someone else. What an idiot he'd been. He was going to scrunch the letter into a ball and toss it, but decided to keep it as a reminder of the fickleness of women. 

He looked in his drawer and saw the ring box. He picked it up and looked around for a place to put them. He suddenly remembered the wooden chest that he kept under his bed. He pulled the box out. It was an alchemist's set that he had gotten when his father was stationed in Egypt. Sort of like a chemistry set. There were small vials containing various chemicals and such. He had also used the box to keep small items he'd accumulated during his travels with his parents. 

He pushed the ring box and the letter into the bottom of the box. He wasn't sure why he kept it – he should have just returned it to the store or sold it to someone else. But for some reason, he wanted to keep it. Maybe as a reminder of how stupid he'd been. Here he was working hard studying and trying to get ahead and she was off probably playing games with her new boyfriend. He also picked up the framed drawing she had given him and added that to the box as well. That would teach him to put his trust in anyone other than himself.

He decided to spend Christmas in Baltimore as well. He really didn't want to spend it with his parents and didn't want to go back to Fort Bliss without Marianne there. His roommate lived in Virginia and invited him to spend the holidays with him. Greg went and the two of them had a blast. They picked up girls and got laid – numerous times. Greg told himself that he didn't need Marianne to have sex.

They were driving back to Baltimore, when Tom, his roommate, popped a cassette into his car stereo. 

"Hey, you gotta hear this new album. Do you know Boston?"

"I've heard them." Greg said.

"Well, their new song is great. It's called 'More Than a Feeling.' Have you heard it?"

"Nope."

Tom found the song and turned up the volume. Greg was enjoying the slow rock beat until it got to the line:

I see my Marianne walking away.

More than a feeling when I hear that old song playing.

I may be dreaming when I see Marianne walk away.

I see my Marianne walking away.

Greg reached out and turned off the stereo.

"Hey!" Tom said. "What's up?"

"I don't like that song."

"Why? It's great! They're gonna have a big hit with that."

Great, Greg thought. "Yeah, well, I just don't like it. And I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"Okay, okay." Tom grumbled.

Over the next few weeks, Greg heard that song over and over. He wanted to scream every time he heard it. Not that he thought about Marianne when he heard it. It was just an annoying song to him.

The second term began and Greg got involved in school. He also made it his business to date – and sleep with – as many girls as he could. 

It was March and he was studying for midterms. He was just getting into his biology when Tom came in and told him, "Phone call for you."

"Who is it?"

"Don't know, but it's female."

Greg sighed and got up. He really had to study, but didn't want to miss out on lining up a date for the weekend.

He went out into the hall and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

There was no response on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" he said again. "Who is this?"

He could hear breathing on the other end, so he knew that someone was there. He was starting to get aggravated. He had too much to do to play these games.

"Look, I have mid-terms. I don't have time for this. Either tell me who you are and what you want or I'm hanging up."

There was still no sound.

"Yeah, well, fuck you." He said as he slammed down the phone. Some people had no consideration for what others were going through.

He returned to his studying, but he seemed to have lost his concentration. It was as if he should be somewhere else, not here at school studying biology. As if there was something really important that he was missing. It bothered him so much, that he went so far as to call his parents. But they were fine, though surprised that he called.

The feeling never left him. He couldn't sleep well. He had strange dreams of blood and crying. He woke up tired and restless. He had a feeling that whatever he was missing would stay missing for a long time.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Marianne grew very fond of Harry Newman. She never fell in love with him, but she cared deeply for him. Almost from the first, he became an important force in Michael's life. She brought the baby home from the hospital and Harry was waiting with sports equipment.

When she told him that he didn't have to do that, he said, "You two women don't even like sports. He's a guy, he needs a guy to teach him about those things."

As soon as Michael could walk, Harry started taking him to the park and throwing baseballs and footballs with him. They went to the playground and Michael made baskets on Harry's shoulders.

Harry had never been married. Although he could always get his share of women whenever he wanted, he was the sort of man who wanted a relationship. He had had a few, but none that meant enough for him to make it permanent.

Until he met Marianne Gregory.

To Harry, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. And she WAS a girl, just eighteen when they met and still pining for the guy that had gotten her pregnant.

The baby wasn't a problem. Hell, the baby was a bonus. Harry loved kids, but an illness in his youth had left him with a very low sperm count. It was unlikely that he would ever father a child of his own. So he latched on to Michael with joy and tried to be a surrogate father to him.

He wanted to be a real father, but knew that Marianne was both too young and not ready for another relationship.

He became her best friend, companion, escort.

When Michael was four years old, Harry proposed to her.

That's when she told him about Greg House and that she was still in love with Michael's father.

"But Greg's not here is he? Are you going to get in touch with him?"

"No." she sighed. "I probably burned my bridges with him. And he'd resent that I lied by not telling him about Michael."

"So you have to go on with your own life, right?"

"Harry, I'm just not ready now."

Six months later, he asked her again. And again she refused. On Michael's fifth birthday, he asked again. Still she refused. Six months later, he tried once more. When she started to refuse, he cut her off.

"Look, I've got an idea. Why don't you try to find this Greg House? No, hear me out, it's been six years since you've seen him. Find him, talk to him. If you're still in love with him, then be with him. But if not, maybe you can consider me."

Marianne thought about it and agreed to try. She contacted Johns Hopkins University, but found that Greg House was no longer enrolled there. They refused to give her any more information about him.

When she told Harry, he said he would help search for him. He sent someone to Baltimore, but no one would say what had happened to Greg House.

She thought of trying to contact his parents, but felt uneasy doing that. She knew she had to face the fact that she would never see Greg again. Which meant that she had to decide on the rest of her life. Spending it longing for a man she'd never have didn't seem like a good idea.

She could start dating. Guys had asked her out, but she hadn't been interested. There was Michael to consider. Any guy she hooked up with had to accept her son. She'd heard horror stories of what some stepfathers did to kids. Real fathers, too, for that matter. So she knew she had to be careful.

Which brought her back to Harry Newman. She knew he was in love with her and even though she didn't return the feeling, she cared about him. She enjoyed being with him, they laughed all the time. And most important, he adored Michael. He already treated the boy as if he was his son. She could do a lot worse than Harry and not a whole lot better.

She said yes.

Harry was over the moon with joy. He bought her a huge diamond engagement ring. He promised her anything she wanted. He flew her family in and paid for their hotel rooms. They all liked Harry. He was a construction guy who'd made some savvy real estate deals and a lot of money as a result. But he fit right in with the mechanics, carpenters and plumbers of the DiGregorio family. 

She didn't want a large wedding, but she wanted a church wedding.

She wore a simple tea length dress in a pale aqua color. Her Aunt Lily was matron of honor and one of Harry's friends was best man. Michael, dressed in an adorable little tuxedo, was ring bearer.

She chose traditional music for the Mass. She thought about her old desire to have "My Sweet Lady", but knew she couldn't even bear to hear that song now.

It was a lovely wedding. After the ceremony at the church, the reception was held at a New York restaurant, with an elegant dinner and a five piece combo playing music.

Everyone had a wonderful time and said it was the nicest wedding they had ever been to. Harry didn't stop smiling the entire day, he had never been so happy. 

Marianne feared she had made a big mistake. But the only thing she could do now was to make the best of it.

Soon after they were married, Harry began proceedings to adopt Michael. He became his father legally and they celebrated

Harry was considerate of Marianne in bed. He was a good lover and they had fun. It wasn't his fault that every time they made love, she thought about Greg House.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They had been married almost fifteen years when Harry collapsed one day. His heart just gave out. There were no warning signs, no previous health problems. Despite efforts to revive him, he was dead within minutes.

Michael was in college, already planning to be a doctor, although he hadn't chosen a specialty. After Harry's death, he knew it would be cardiology. He wanted to solve the mystery of his dad's death, the mystery of the heart and any other mystery out there. He heard of one other doctor who solved mysteries and he was determined someday to work with Dr. Gregory House.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Marianne wanted to clear out Harry's stuff. She needed to remove it. It hurt too much to see his clothes and personal things in their bedroom. She wished she could have loved him the way he deserved to be loved, but she had loved him as a best friend and a fun lover. She missed him very much.

She started packing up his clothes for charity, then called Michael in. She wanted to make sure he took anything of his father's that he wanted to keep.

They started going through the drawers and Michael put the personal items he wanted in a box.

"Oh, wait!" Marianne said. "He kept his diamond tie tack and cuff links in my jewelry box. Let me get them." 

She pulled out an older velvet box and opened it. As she started rooting through it, she said, "He didn't wear them very often, so he kept them with my good jewelry."

Michael looked at the items that she started pulling out. Some were obviously old and he knew that some pieces had belonged to her grandmother, as she had shown them to him before. Then he saw a silver necklace among the items. It didn't look like it was very expensive, so he wondered why it was in this box. He picked it up and saw that it was a name in large block letters. The letters spelled out MEG.

"What's this?" he asked her.

She glanced at it, then quickly away. "Oh, that's just an old necklace of mine. Just put it over there."

"Yours? But it says Meg. That's not your name. And it's not old or expensive like the other jewelry in here."

"Well. Actually, MEG was my initials before I married Dad. And it is important to me."

He saw her hesitate before continuing, so he pressed her.

"Someone used to call me Meg. He gave me that necklace. Actually, it was your father."

"I never heard Dad call you Meg."

"No, not Dad. Your real father."

She watched him for a reaction. There was none. "You've never asked me about him. Not even what his name is. I can't believe you're not curious."

"I'm curious, but not enough. Dad was the best father anyone could ever have. I don't need another one." He handed the necklace back to her.

And that was the only time they discussed the man who had fathered him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Greg's life went on after Marianne dumped him. He met and slept with a lot of girls in college. He cheated on an exam and was kicked out of Johns Hopkins. He transferred to Michigan to finish his education. There he met a young student named Lisa Cuddy who would later hire him. He worked at a lot of other hospitals in the ensuing years. 

Eventually he met a lawyer named Stacy, with dark hair and eyes. There was something about her, a slight resemblance to Marianne, just not as Mediterranean looking. He fell in love and lived with her until he suffered an infarction in his leg and she broke his trust.

He realized then that he had made the right decision in college not to trust or give his heart to a woman.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

_The present time…_

The images faded in her head as the afternoon sun set. She had spent the day remembering the past. The rest of morning had seen her polish off all of the coffee and a few muffins as well. Once the coffee was done, she had started on wine. She was on her fourth glass at this point and not ready to stop any time soon.

The emotions that had played through her in the last hours had run the gamut. First, of course, had been shock. She had never in a million years ever expected to run into Greg House. She had thought she would never see him again.

Next had come dismay when she realized he was Michael's boss. How had that passed her by? She thought back to the conversations she and Michael had had about him. She realized now that her son had referred to him as "the jerk" most of the time, or, after he started working for him, "my boss." Once or twice, she had heard him say "House team," but had always thought that referred to the people working there or something. What did she know about hospitals?

The next emotion was panic. From what Michael said, Dr. House was brilliant. Greg had been very smart at seventeen; he could only be smarter at forty-eight. It wouldn't take him long to figure out everything, if he hadn't at the moment he had said to her, "You're his mother?"

As she sat and reminisced on her past, she had gone through joy– their time together had been so sweet – and then sadness – their parting had been hard.

Now, as she sat there sipping her wine, it was mostly fear. She didn't want to tell Michael, yet she feared she would soon be forced to.

As she tried to come to terms with all of these emotions, she was startled out of her thoughts by the doorbell. She took another gulp of wine as she rose. She had a bad feeling about this.

Of course it was him. She opened the door to find him standing there.

"Hello, Greg." She said.

"Hello, Marianne." He replied.

She moved away from the door and he walked in and closed the door behind him. She headed towards the kitchen, calling out as she did, "Do you want a drink?"

"Sure. What do you have?"

"Beer or wine."

"Still a hard drinker, I see. Beer's fine."

She refilled her wine glass and pulled a beer out of the fridge. She returned to the living room and handed it to him.

"Actually, this is my fourth glass of wine."

"Living on the edge, huh?"

She had been in such shock earlier that day, she hadn't really looked closely at him then. She took the time now. His hair was less, thinning with some gray mixed in and receding a bit. The beard was an addition, he had always been clean-shaven. Of course, the cane was an ever present reminder that things had changed. Michael had mentioned that his boss was crippled, but hadn't given any explanation. Remembering the strong, active, athletic young man she had loved, her heart broke a bit when she saw it. She would have to find out about that. But all in all, as she looked at him, she wasn't displeased. If anything, he had grown more attractive with the years.

She sighed and sat in the armchair. He had settled on the sofa. 

"I guess it was a shock to find that I was Michael's mother. I know I was shocked to find out you were his boss."

"You could say that."

"I'm glad you fulfilled your dream and became a doctor. A very good one from all I've heard."

"Well, smart enough to read my employee's personnel file. Funny, that file lists his mother as Marianne Gregory and father as Harold Newman, deceased. But what's weird is that he is twenty-nine and his birthday is in March. That means he was born about nine months after we graduated and there was no Harold Newman in our school."

"Harry adopted Michael when I married him."

"Yeah, figured that out. But then…"

"Alright, Greg, that's enough. What do you want? You want me to say it? Okay, I will. Michael is your son."

House sat back, speechless. Even though he had figured it out five minutes after leaving the house, actually hearing her say it was unbelievable.

When Newman had introduced him to his mother and he had looked up to see Marianne Gregory, his heart had almost stopped. She was the very last person he had expected to see in this house. And the mother of one of his team? She had been as shocked to see him. 

It didn't take him long to do the math. They graduated in June, 1977. He had last seen her in August of that same year. Michael Newman was born in March, 1978. Unless she was screwing someone else at the same time they were sleeping together, there was little doubt. Still, he wondered. Which was why he had come to her house.

She had just confirmed it. He had a son. A grown son who wasn't all that fond of him. A son who was a doctor and a pretty smart one. A son who was sleeping with Allison Cameron. That last thought caused him to smile to himself. Ironic. But still, a son…

He finally found his voice. "So it never occurred to you to tell me that I had a son?"

"Of course, it occurred to me. But I haven't known where you were for a long time."

"You knew where I was when he was born. I was in college. You had my address because I wrote letters to you. Letters that you stopped answering. Guess you didn't have much to say to me. Except for that one important letter. But there was nothing special happening in your life. Just the birth of MY son."

Marianne rose and walked to the sideboard where the wine bottle sat. She filled her glass again. She had gotten to a point where she believed she would never have to have this discussion with Greg House. But here it was. Now she would have to justify her actions from thirty years ago. She would need more wine for this.

"Greg, when I found out I was pregnant, you were getting ready to go to college. You were excited about leaving home. You were excited about becoming a doctor. You had so much of life ahead of you. I couldn't take all that away from you."

"So you took away my chance to be a father? My chance to have a life with you? Marianne, I wanted you to come to Baltimore with me. I asked you. If I'd known you were pregnant, we could have gotten married. You could have come to Baltimore and…"

"Do you hear yourself? How could I have come to Baltimore? You were on scholarship there. They don't provide housing for married students on scholarship."

"We could have gotten an apartment."

"And paid for it how? You were going to school full time and I was pregnant. Which of us was going to provide for this little family?"

"Marianne…"

"No, Greg, listen to me. I know exactly what would have happened. I tell you I'm pregnant, we get married, but you can't support a wife and child and go to school. So one of two things happen: You decide to hold off on school and get some two bit job to pay the bills and you hate it. And before long you hate me and Michael. And then either you start drinking or something and are totally miserable or you leave us and Michael is devastated and I've watched a brilliant man descend into despair.

"Or, we get married, again you can't go to school, but in this scene, your father convinces you that the best way to support a family and go to school would be to join the service. So you do and even though you can support us and you can get your education, you hate it so much. And you either get fed up and punch your commanding officer or you keep your mouth shut and become more and more miserable.

"Either way, you end up unhappy, I end up unhappy, our child ends up unhappy. Believe me. Greg, I went over and over this in my mind. I wanted so much to tell you, to share it with you. But no matter how I looked at it, I couldn't see it ending well. And I couldn't destroy your dreams. They were so important to you."

He had silently listened to her words. He looked at her now as he said, "You were important to me too."

"I know. And you were important to me. That's why I couldn't destroy your life."

"Maybe you wouldn't have destroyed it. Maybe you would have saved it."

She shook her head, "I don't think so, Greg."

"You don't know my life."

"Maybe not. But I made the best decision I could at the time. Was it the right one? We'll never know."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

"Tell me about your husband."

She drank some wine. "Oh, Harry! Harry was the sweetest, kindest man you could ever hope to meet. And he adored Michael. He was a terrific father to him."

Better than I would have been, House thought, but he said nothing as she went on.

"When I found out I was pregnant, I went to live with my aunt in New York. My dad was getting transferred again and we thought it would be better if I had a stable place to live."

"And a place where a single, pregnant daughter wouldn't embarrass him."

"He's not like that." She sighed. "But unfortunately other people in the military are. So anyway, I moved in with my aunt. She was thrilled and became a surrogate grandmother to Michael when he was born. Harry was her boss."

"How old was he?"

"About twenty years older than me. He started out as a friend. He was good to my aunt and then to me and Michael. Just a really good friend.

"But as time went on, he became more. At first it was his attention to Michael. He would take him to the park, then to the zoo and the circus and anywhere he could think of. And a lot of the time, I would go along. We had fun together. We sort of became a family.

"He knew about you. He knew … well, what had happened. But as time passed, we got closer and eventually he proposed. At first I refused. But he was so patient, so sweet about it. He promised that he would take care of Michael no matter what. That if we got married and I found …someone else, he would let me go and still provide for Michael. He even helped me look for you before we got married. But it didn't work out, so I said yes.

"He knew I didn't love him the way he loved me, but I tried to be a good wife to him. I did all the business dinner stuff he needed. And he was so wonderful with Michael. Even with his busy schedule, he always took time out to be with him. He tucked him in every night. If he was away on business, he called him before he went to bed. He coached Little League. He did everything a father should do with a son."

House avoided looking at her. "Then you lucked out because he certainly did more than I would have done."

She said, "You would have been great with Michael. I really am sorry that you didn't get the chance."

"Yeah, right. That's why you tried so hard to find me."

"I did. When I contacted John Hopkins, you had left. They wouldn't give me any information on where you'd gone. Harry had someone search, but they couldn't find you."

"He didn't search very hard. My roommate at Hopkins knew I transferred to Michigan. All someone would have had to do is ask some people. Med students have too much studying to do to work, so they're always broke. They would all sell out their mothers for twenty bucks. He didn't search for your old boyfriend."

Marianne stared at him. "You mean Harry lied to me?"

"Everybody lies."

She considered this for a minute. "Wow, I never would have thought that of him."

"Lose respect for your husband now?"

"No, actually, I gained some."

He looked confused.

"I thought Harry was practically perfect. It got a little boring. Now that I know he cheated to get me, I kind of appreciate him more."

"Great." House muttered.


	26. Chapter 26

FIRST NIGHT TALK & OTHER

Chapter 26

By the time they stopped talking, it was late and both had drunk a great deal. House stood up to leave and fell back down again.

"You can't drive home." Marianne told him.

"I'm okay."

"I'm not letting you out of here like that. You can stay here."

He looked at her.

She made an impatient gesture. "You can go upstairs and sleep in Michael's room or you can sleep on the sofa."

House eyed the stairs, knowing he'd never make it up them. "Sofa's good." He told her. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure. You need to go through my bedroom." She pointed the way.

While she got a pillow and blanket for him he went to use the bathroom. When he came back into the living room, she was in the kitchen getting some water. She walked through and said good night as she headed to her bedroom, switching out the light as she went.

He lay on her sofa in the dark, thinking about how amazing this was and how terrific she looked. He knew they were the same age, but she looked years younger. He'd have to get to know her again.

Marianne couldn't sleep. She never imagined that she would have Greg House in her home, sleeping on her sofa just a few feet away. She felt the same pull towards him that she had thirty years ago. But she knew that they were both different people. She knew she had to proceed very slowly.

As she continued to toss and turn, she decided to get something to help her sleep. She walked into the living room and heard him snoring. She smiled. They had only spent the entire night together once, so she didn't really know that he snored. She walked over to the chair and sat opposite where he slept. There was a faint light from the street lamp outside which allowed her to see his face, albeit in shadow. She stared at him.

He'd been cute in high school, with a sort of boyish charm, but now he was all man and totally gorgeous. She still wondered about the leg. They hadn't discussed that, most of their talk had been about Michael and their past.

She leaned back and closed her eyes. From all indications, he was not the nice, sweet boy she remembered. He had grown hard and mean. Why? Had his leg caused it? Had she? 

"Do you usually stalk your guests while they sleep or am I special?

She was startled out of her reverie by his voice. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was awake and staring at her.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep. And I just…I don't know what I'm doing."

He watched her hesitation. "What do you want to talk about?"

She looked away for a second, then back. "What happened to your leg?"

He grimaced. "Not a good bedtime story."

"Please tell me."

He hesitated. It wasn't something he liked to talk about, but this was Marianne. And it was very late. Things seem different in the middle of the night. He sat up and swung his legs slowly onto the floor. He told her about the infarction and the muscle death.

"They wanted to amputate, but I wouldn't let them. I thought the muscle would regenerate in time."

"But it didn't?"

"It didn't get the chance. While I was in a coma – to handle the pain—my medical proxy authorized them to remove the dead tissue. So instead of it regenerating and me being myself, I have this limp and constant pain."

"Oh, Greg, that's terrible! Who was your medical proxy?"

"My girlfriend."

"Oh." She stopped, thinking. "Are you still with her?"

"No. We broke up not long after."

"Well, I guess it was hard to trust her after that."

"Yeah, I seem to have a problem with women betraying my trust."

"Greg, I…"

'Never mind. It's too late and it doesn't matter anyway. I just wish I'd known about Michael."

"So do I. At the time, it was the best decision I thought I could make. But many times later, I regretted it. At least you know him now."

"Yeah, and he hates me."

"That's not true. He respects you."

"He respects me as a doctor, he hates me as a man. I never cared whether people liked me before. Weird how I want my son to."

Marianne's eyes started to fill with tears. She had messed this up so bad and now Michael would have to find out that his new boss was his father. She started sobbing. 

"I'm so sorry, Greg. I shouldn't have…"

He was off the sofa in an instant and put his arms around her. "It's okay, don't cry. Come on, Meg, don't cry."

She stopped and looked at him. "No one but you has ever called me that. I can't believe you remember."

He shrugged. She put her hand on his face and ran the palm down his check, feeling the roughness of his beard. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it. They stared at each other. Slowly, he leaned towards her and kissed her. It was a light, tentative kiss, but it held the promise of passion contained for thirty years. She kissed him back and moved her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened. Seconds later when they broke apart, he said, "You always had the most amazing kisses."

"I'm surprised you remembered them."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm sure there's been a lot of women since then."

"Doesn't mean I don't remember good sex."

She looked hurt. He pulled her closer to him. "I remember more than that."

"So do I."

He sighed and sat back on the sofa, pulling her with him. He leaned in to kiss her again and then deepened it. His hands started roaming down her body, feeling all the curves and soft spots. She wasn't skinny, but she wasn't fat. She was round in all the right places and while she didn't have a lean athletic body, she had a nice healthy one. His hand moved to her breast and he squeezed it gently.

She moved away a bit and looked at him. "Greg, I don't know if this is a good idea."

"It's a great idea."

"It's been thirty years."

"So? Do you have an expiration date?"

She stopped, thinking about how long it had been since she'd been with a man, how really good he looked and how she had been desiring him all evening. Not to mention wanting him for the past thirty years. Really, why not go for it?

Then she looked at the man that was both familiar and yet a stranger. She knew she couldn't do this, not now.

"Greg, I've had a lot of wine today. Our first time together after thirty years should not be cloaked in a wine-soaked haze."

"So, are you saying that when you're not drunk…"

"I'm saying that I'd like to get to know you a little better first. We're very different people than we were thirty years ago."

"Okay, I got that, but…"

"Can we take some time? Get to know each other again?" Her eyes pleaded with him. "Please?"

House looked at her. She was so beautiful. Really, she had aged, but the young woman he had known was still there. And that kiss? Well, he had never forgotten her kisses in thirty years and they were the same. Still, if she was anything like the girl he'd known, she wasn't about to rush into a sexual liaison with him. His best bet was to bide his time.

"Okay, you're probably right. We can take our time, if you want."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Greg."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 27

House woke the next morning to the smell of coffee brewing and something cooking. He lay there for a moment enjoying the smell, until the physical took over. The sofa was pretty comfortable, but it didn't leave him enough room to stretch his leg and it was throbbing. He reached down for his jeans which he had thrown on the floor and dug out his vial of pills. He dry swallowed a couple and lay still while he waited for them to take effect.

They hadn't, yet, when another physical need took over. He reached for his cane and pushed himself to a sitting position. Pulling on his jeans carefully, he eventually rose and hobbled in search of the good smells, assuming Marianne would be there.

She was. Her back was to him as she stood at the stove, frying up mushrooms, peppers and tomatoes for an omelet.

"Hi." He said.

She whirled around and smiled at him. "Good morning. Did you sleep okay?"

"Fine." He said, thinking to himself, considering that I was on a sofa, instead of in a bed with you.

"Do you like omelets?"

"Sure. But first, I need to use your bathroom." 

"No problem, this will take a few minutes."

A minute of so later, he reappeared and entered the kitchen again. 

"Sit down. Do you want some coffee?"

"Depends on how quickly you can get it into me. Michael leave an intravenous around here?"

She smiled and placed a mug full of dark brown liquid in front of him. "You used to use cream and sugar?"

He was surprised that she remembered that. "Just black these days."

She nodded and went back to the stove. In a few minutes she put a plate in front of him with a nice, fluffy omelet on it. She also put a plate of muffins on the table.

"Sorry, these are from yesterday. I didn't have time to make fresh ones."

"That's fine," he said, reaching for one. "So, when did you learn to cook like this? You never cooked when I knew you."

"I was seventeen! Teenage girls don't want to cook. My mom tried to teach me, but I mostly ignored her. Still, I guess some of it stuck. And when you have a child to care for, you have to know how to feed him."

House was silent, thinking about her raising Michael. "So, are you going to tell Michael? Wait, does he even know that Harry wasn't his father?"

"He knows. We told him when he was about thirteen. We didn't want him to find out by accident."

"What did he think?"

"He remembered our wedding, so he kind of knew already. I asked him if he wanted to know about you and he said he didn't. Harry was his dad. I never even told him your name." She avoided his glance, not wanting to see his reaction.

"We talked about it again, when Harry died. He still didn't care. Since I never thought we'd ever see you, that he'd ever meet you, it didn't seem important. Just my luck that the one doctor that he really wants to work with is his own father,"

"So, are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know. Not right away at least. I need to process this a bit myself. I guess I will, eventually, but, oh, I don't know."

He understood her confusion, as he was confused himself. Did he want Newman to know the truth? But how could he work with the man now that he knew?

They finished eating breakfast and House headed back to the bathroom to wash up so that he could get dressed and go home. Marianne was in her bedroom when she heard a noise from the living room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Michael, I still don't understand why we had to leave so early. We were going to spend the day in Lancaster." Allison complained.

"Because I have to talk to my mother. I have to know about him, how does she know him?"

"Does it really matter? They're old friends, they're former classmates, it could be a thousand reasons."

"Allison, my mom was eighteen when I was born. I know everyone she's known since then."

"Surely not everyone?"

"EVERYONE. There has to be a reason why I never knew him before."

Allison didn't say anything as they pulled into the driveway. They both stared at the car that wasn't Marianne's that was parked there. They saw the PPTH parking sticker and the handicapped sign.

Michael was out of the car and heading into the house in a flash.

"Mom?" he called as soon as he was inside. "Mom, where are you?"

"Just a minute, Michael. I'll be right out." He heard her say. 

A few minutes later, Marianne came out of the bedroom tying the sash of a robe around her waist. By this time Cameron had caught up and was in the room as well.

"What is it? Why are you home so early?"

"He's here, isn't he?"

"What? Why? What are you talking about?"

"Marianne, House's car is outside." Cameron said gently.

Marianne was not sure how to answer, when a voice behind her said, "Too late. They know I'm here."

She turned to see him hobbling out of the bedroom wearing only his jeans. Michael's face contorted in anger.

"You son of a bitch, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"This is my mother! How dare you treat her like some cheap piece of ass!"

"Michael! What do you think you're doing?"

House tried to calm her. "Let it go, Meg. He's got to rant and rave for awhile."

Michael stopped and paled. "What did you call her? What the hell did you call her?"

When she heard that, Marianne sank into the sofa, her head in her hands.

House was perplexed. "I don't know. What did I call her?"

"You called her Meg."

"Yeah, I used to call her that a long time ago."

Michael turned to his mother. "Oh, no. Please don't tell me…him?"

Marianne looked up. "Yes, Michael, him."

"Jesus Christ! Have you no standards at all?"

By this time, Allison was completely confused. "Michael, what's going on? What are you talking about?"

"Him. The son of a bitch knocked her up when she was eighteen. Then he went off to college and left her."

"He never knew, Michael. I told you that. He didn't know until he saw me yesterday."

Allison was trying to make sense of it. "But you said your mother was eighteen when she had you? If he…but what about Harry Newman?"

"Mom married him when I was six. He adopted me. And he was the best father any kid has ever had."

Allison looked at House, then at Marianne, then back at Michael. "Are you saying…House is your father?"

"Apparently."

"Well, kid, looks like you have a lot of Father's Days to make up for. I like my ties extra long." House snarked.

Michael looked him in the eye. "Actually, I prefer giving after shave. My favorite scent is Eau de Arsenic."

"Watch out, or you won't inherit the great House fortune."

"I don't need a goddamn thing from you. My Dad, my TRUE Dad, left me and mom well provided for. Other than a sperm donation, I've never gotten or needed anything from you."

"Michael!" Marianne admonished him. "That's enough. I understand that this is a shock for you. It was a shock for me just seeing Greg yesterday. But there is no reason to speak like that to him."

"Were you in shock when you went to bed with him, Mom?"

Allison spoke up. "I think that's enough for now, Michael. Why don't we let House and your mother sort things out, while we go get unpacked? I really want lunch."

Michael grumbled some more, but eventually did as Cameron asked and the two of them left.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

On Monday. House arrived at work a little earlier than usual. In fact, he was almost on time. He bypassed his office and headed to Wilson's. His friend was reviewing some files on patients he was seeing that day. He looked up in surprise when he saw House, then looked at his watch and shook his wrist a few times.

"Either my watch has stopped or you're…early?"

"Good morning to you too." House said as he sat down. "So, how was your weekend?"

"Well, actually…"

"That's great. Glad to hear it."

Wilson sighed. "Okay, since you asked that and don't really care how my weekend was, there has to be another reason why you did."

House just stared at him.

"Oh, okay. Fine, House, and how was your weekend?"

"Very interesting."

"And how so?"

House was silent, wondering how he should broach this, wondering if he should, wondering why he felt the need to tell it to Wilson in the first place.

"Look, if you don't want to tell me…" Wilson began, motioning to the files on his desk.

"Do you remember your first time?" House asked.

"My first time what?"

"The first time you saw Cats!" he snarked. "Though with you, you probably not only saw it once, you saw it five times at least."

Wilson looked down.

"You're pathetic. There's only one first time that matters to a man. You are a man right?"

Wilson glared at him, then sighed and said, "Of course, I remember. What guy doesn't? Hannah Epstein. We were in a Jewish Youth Group. She was…"

"Ever see her again?" House interrupted.

"No. I heard she married a lawyer and is living in L.A. Why?"

"What would you do if you saw her again?"

Wilson shrugged. "Probably say, hi, how are you? I don't know."

House tapped his cane on the floor a few times, and then said quietly. "What would you do if you found out that she was pregnant with your kid the last time you saw her?"

"Well, that would be…wait, are you saying…did you…?"

House looked up at the ceiling. "I met Newman's mother on Saturday."

"Wait, don't change the subject! What about the first woman you slept with?"

"I didn't change the subject."

"You were talking about the first women you slept with."

"Right, I was."

Wilson sat for a moment considering, before saying, "Newman's mother was your first?"

"We graduated high school together."

"But Newman is like thirty years old. That would mean…" he stopped, looking at his friend in amazement. "What are you saying?"

"Congratulate me. It's a boy."

Wilson sat back in stunned silence.

"Did you know when you hired him?"

House gave him a withering look.

"Oh, right, you just met his mother. So, what's she like? What kind of relationship did you have?"

House moved his gaze to the window before saying, "I was in love with her."

"What happened?"

"I went to college, she dumped me. She figured I wouldn't be a good father."

"She said that?" Wilson was astonished.

"No, she said she didn't want me to give up my dreams. I wouldn't be able to support a kid while I was in college. It adds up to the same thing."

"Not necessarily. You wouldn't have been able to support a kid while you in college."

"And I would have been a lousy father."

"You don't know that."

House didn't answer and they sat there in silence, thinking about it, when finally Wilson spoke: "So Newman is your son."

"I think we've established that."

"Does he know?"

"He does now, after a rather heated discussion yesterday."

"He wasn't happy?"

"It wasn't exactly a Hallmark moment."

"Well, I can't say you'd be anyone's first choice for a dad, but he'll probably get used to it."

"Doubt it."

"So, you had no idea? The name didn't ring any bells?"

"Different name. She got married, husband adopted the kid."

"Oh, she's married!"

"Widow."

"Ah. And how does she look?"

"Great."

"Well, that's good."

"Why?"

"Maybe you could reconnect with her."

"I tried to Saturday night."

"And?"

"She wants time to get to know me again."

"That makes sense. She hasn't seen you in thirty years."

House looked at him now. "Do you really think that when she gets to know me she'll want anything to do with me?"

Wilson sighed. How to get his friend to realize that there was a real person, a good one, underneath the abrasive persona he usually adopted? House wasn't an optimist; so spouting encouraging and complimentary words to him wouldn't help.

"House she obviously cared for you once."

"I was eighteen, she was sheltered and we were the only Yankees in Ft. Bliss, Texas.

"So you're saying she never really cared about you?"

House sighed, then said, "She did. She wasn't the type of girl to, well, let's just say, it was the first for both of us."

"And she's raised your son. From what you've said about him, it sounds as if he's a lot like you."

"Another reason why she won't like me."

"House, give it a chance. Give yourself a chance."


	29. Chapter 29

**I appreciate everyone who takes the time to leave a review. Sorry if I've been slow to respond, real life has been giving me a good swift kick lately. But I read every one of your wonderful reviews and really look forward to them. So keep them coming. And those of you who are reading and not commenting, come on, one little word would be good. Just "great!" "Awful!', anything.**

**Anyway, enjoy the story...**

Chapter 29

House waited a few days to let it sink in – for all of them. Michael avoided looking at him and dealt strictly with work. Cameron eyed both of them warily, seeming like she wanted to speak, but stopping when she got a look from Michael.

After a few restless nights, thinking about Marianne and about how great kissing her still was, House decided to stop by to see her. He left work and drove past the Newman house. There was one car in the driveway and it wasn't the one his employee drove.

Marianne was surprised to see House at the door. Surprised because she had thought that after Saturday night, he'd want to follow up their meeting quickly. The Greg House she'd know in high school would have. But she had to keep reminding herself that this wasn't the Greg she knew in high school. This was a forty-eight year old man who had spent the last thirty years mostly alone and the last few in pain as well. She could have no preconceptions as to what he would do.

She opened the door, smiled at him and said, "Hi."

"Hi. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Newman hasn't talked about…the other day."

"He hasn't talked to me either. He avoids what he doesn't want to face."

Like someone else I know, House thought.

Marianne opened the door wider. "Come on in. Have you eaten dinner yet?"

"No."

"Good. I have a lasagna that I was just heating up.'

Minutes later, they were seated at the dining room table with steaming plates of rich, cheesy lasagna in front of them. They each also had a glass of merlot along side.

House tried a forkful and sighed. It was delicious. Still, he had to ask, "No meat in it?"

"My mom never made it with meat. Cheese only."

"Oh, okay. Thought you'd become a vegetarian."

She laughed. "Not me. I love meat. I love almost all food.

He smiled and nodded, as he continued to eat. When he paused again, he said, "So how are your parents?"

"Mom died a few years ago."

"Sorry."

"My dad lives in Connecticut. He retired from the Marines and runs an auto repair shop. These days, he supervises more than actually works. How about your folks?"

"Both still around. My dad's retired too, they live in San Diego."

"That's good."

"If you say so."

She just looked at him. Obviously, things had not improved between him and his father in thirty years.

"What about your brothers?" he asked her.

"Vince is still in the Marines. He's stationed in Germany right now. He's married, has three kids. His eldest just started college – Penn State."

"Great. Good football school."

"Well, SHE didn't really think about that." She laughed. "And David works construction and real estate for Harry's company. He lives in New York with his, uh, partner."

House looked up. "Really? Cool. What does your family think of that?"

"Vince is okay with it. He's a very non-judgmental person. Dad, well, he just pretends it doesn't exist. David just lives in New York, he's single because he hasn't met the right girl and Ron is his roommate. That way, he can have a relationship with his son, be nice to Ron and not have to admit anything he doesn't want to admit. It works for all of us."

House chuckled. "I've thought about telling my dad I was gay just to see his reaction. But I just don't think I could pull it off." He looked at her. "And what about you? Any career?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I'm an illustrator for children's books."

"Still doodling, huh?"

"It was never doodling. It was, and is, drawing."

"How'd you choose that line?"

"I didn't actually choose it, I sort of fell into it. I always drew, well, you know that. And after Michael was born, when I'd tell him bedtime stories, I'd draw pictures to go along with them. He enjoyed the pictures more than the stories. Even as he got older, he still loved them. I kept them all – God I have boxes full of sketchbooks.

"When he was about nine, I happened to show them to a friend of mine. She's a literary agent. She loved them and about a month later, she told me that a publisher she worked with was producing a new edition of classic children's books and needed a fresh, new illustrator. She wanted me to do some drawings for him.

"At first, I said no way, but Sandy, that's my friend, talked me into it. I did the drawings and the publisher loved them. I did the illustration for the entire series. I got a new career and Sandy got a new client."

"Michael was still a kid when I started. It allowed me to work at home at my own hours and still be available for him. I was den mother for his Boy Scout troop, team parent for baseball, basketball, soccer, whatever. I was on the PTA, the Band Parents Club, you name it. And I still had a career.

"Harry left us secure. Michael's education was taken care of, I don't have to work. So, I'm free to do the projects I want to do."

"Can I see some of your work?"

She looked at him incredulously. "Are you sure you want to?"

"Sure."

She motioned him to follow her. He did and watched as she walked to a bookcase and after looking it over for bit, pulled out two books.

She handed the first one to him, saying, "This was one of the most successful ones. Sold over a million copies."

He sat on the sofa and opened the book. It was a child's science fiction adventure story. She had drawn spaceships, and aliens and all sorts of things. It was cool and fun.

"This is great." He told her.

"Thanks." She handed him the other book. "This one didn't sell as many copies, but it's my favorite."

This one was a fairy tale fantasy full of kings and queens, princes and princesses, knights and dragons and all types of mythical creatures existing in a backdrop of glittering castles and enchanted forests. The entire fantasy world came alive her pictures. He had never seen anything like it.

"Wow!" was all he could say.

She smiled. "Thank you. I'm pretty proud of that one. So, that's what I do."

He watched her as she leafed through the book, a wistful smile on her face. She put the books back in the case and looked at him. All he could think of was how beautiful she looked. She returned to the sofa where he was seated and sat beside him.

"So, tell me how you ended up in Diagnostics."

He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Kind of fell into that too. My specialties are Infectious Diseases and Nephrology."

She looked confused. "Okay, Infectious Diseases I can figure out, but what's Nephrology?"

"Kidneys."

"Ah. How did you choose those?"

He shrugged. "Just seemed interesting in med school. Anyway, even though those were my specialties, I found myself curious about everything else that can attack the body. Starting reading, studying. Eventually, I knew a little about a lot of diseases and a lot about a good many as well. I also started offering advice to other doctors – which most did not appreciate. The hospitals that I worked for liked what I knew, but didn't like the way I did it. Stay in your own department, they would say. I got fired a lot.

"I knew Cuddy in Michigan – where I went after Hopkins. We reconnected and she was administrator for Princeton-Plainsboro. She knew what I was like and what I could do. She had an idea for a department at the hospital that would just diagnose the most difficult cases. And Diagnostics was born. And I got a job that I've somehow held on to longer than any other. That's it."

"I'm really happy you were able to fulfill your dream. I know how important becoming a doctor was to you. Guess it still is." She put her head back and closed her eyes.

He looked at her as she sat there, wondering if all of his dreams had really been fulfilled.

"So," he said, "Do you still watch General Hospital?"

"God, no!" she told him. "I gave up on soaps when Michael was a baby. Too busy, and besides I didn't really think they were proper viewing for a child. I stopped watching and luckily never picked them up again."

"Ah." He said, nodding.

She looked at him. "Why?" The look on his face was rather sheepish. "Greg, are you trying to tell me…do you still watch it?"

"Kinda."

She started to giggle. Then couldn't stop and the giggles got louder and became a laugh, a hearty laugh.

"It's not that funny."

"Yes, it is." She said, laughter bubbling over. "A world renowned, first class doctor watches General Hospital. I love it!"

"You really think that's funny?"

She nodded, still laughing.

"Well, how about this?" he said, as he leaned in and pulled her into his arms.

"Oh…" she got out just before his lips met hers.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Part 1

Since they had gone to dinner nearby, Michael and Allison decided to spend the night at his house. As they pulled up, he saw House's car in the driveway.

"Goddamn son of a bitch!"

Allison saw the car too, but didn't agree with Michael's assessment of the situation.

"Michael, he's allowed to visit her."

"No, he's not." He retorted as he slammed out of the car and marched towards the house. Allison rushed to follow him.

They burst in to find House and Marianne on the sofa, locked in an embrace. Upon hearing the younger couple enter, they broke apart.

"What's he doing here?" Michael demanded.

"He's my guest." Marianne replied.

"Well, he's not welcome in my house!"

"Well, then I guess I'm not either."

Marianne and Michael stared each other down, neither wanting to surrender. Eventually, though, Michael turned to Allison and said, "Come on, we're going to your place."

They left and Marianne sat down next to House.

"Wow," House said, "I can't believe you got him to back down."

"I'm his mother."

"Yeah, but he's pretty arrogant. Doesn't give in at work – ever."

"I'M HIS MOTHER." Marianne said again, with emphasis.

House laughed. "I guess you are."

She sighed. "But that doesn't mean that's the end of it. He may have let his one go, but when he's determined, nothing stops him."

"I guess I know where he got that trait from." He looked at her. "And I sense that's as far as we're going tonight."

She smiled. "I still need time to…'

"Right. I know. It's okay."

He rose and walked with him to the door. He stopped and turned to her. She reached up to lightly kiss him and he pulled her into his arms. His lips found hers and they melded for a few seconds, before breaking apart. She smiled at him and he left the house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day, House decided to stop to see her again. This time, he saw Newman's car in the driveway. When she let him in, Michael waved to him from the sofa, a beer in his hand.

"Hi, House. Glad to see you." The younger man said jovially.

"Aren't you missing an accessory?" House asked him. "Where's your eye candy?"

Michael narrowed his eyes at him briefly, then in the same jovial tone, said, "Allison is having dinner with a girlfriend. So I thought I'd take the time to spend an evening with my mom."

House stared into his eyes, the same brilliant blue as his own. The older man was stubborn, but knew when to give up a battle in order to win the war.

"Well, then, guess I'll just leave you guys alone."

"You don't have to leave." Marianne said.

"It's okay. I'll call you tomorrow." He smiled at her and left the house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He called her the next day from his office while his team was off running tests.

"Hi." He said when she answered.

"Hi yourself." She replied.

"So how was last night's Mommy and Me session?"

"Greg!" she said with a laugh, then, "You didn't have to leave."

"He didn't want me there. Don't know if you did either."

She sighed. "Michael and I spend so little time together these days, especially just us. With all the hours he spends working, then the time he spends with Allison. It was nice."

"That's good. So are you having a very special episode tonight as well?"

"I don't think so. He's seeing Allison."

"Good. Then I'll see you later."

When the team returned, House gave Michael a look that said, 'don't mess with me kid.' Michael glared back at him, then smiled smugly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House and Marianne were eating dinner when they heard a noise near the front door. They looked up to see Michael and Allison enter. 

"Oh, hi." Michael said. "Mom, when I told Allison that you were making Fettucine Alfredo, well, she just swooned. She loves it. Right, honey?"

"Well, actually…" Cameron began.

"So you wouldn't mind if we joined you guys, would you? Great." Michael sat down. Cameron looked a little confused, but then sat down beside him,

"I'll get some more plates." Marianne said.

"Thanks, Mom! You're the best." Michael gushed.

House was staring at the table, while Michael prattled on about some nonsense or other and wouldn't let anyone else talk. House knew he could break in, but he was planning how he could outsmart the kid.

As soon as they finished eating, House rose and grabbed Marianne's hand. "Well, since the kids are here, I'm sure they won't mind cleaning up while you and I go for a drive.'

Marianne smiled. "That's a great idea!"

"Wait!" Michael said, "I thought we could all play cards together. Or Monopoly?"

House stared at him, then said, "Sorry, Monopoly is over. Time for children to stop playing games with the grown-ups."

Michael glared at him, then, "Where are you taking my mother?"

"Oh, I'm sure there's a den of iniquity nearby. Marianne, what do you say? We could get tattoos, shoot some heroin, and find a friendly orgy to join. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." She kissed Michael's cheek. "See you later honey, don't wait up."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Part 2

They got into House's car and he started driving.

"So where are we going?" she asked him.

"Like I said, den of iniquity. Otherwise known as my place." He leered at her.

She smiled and sat back.

When they got to his apartment, he opened it up and led her inside. She looked around. It was a little messy, but nothing more than she expected from a man living alone, especially this one. His mind was too focused on higher things to be concerned about the mundane. The most striking feature of the room was the grand piano. She immediately moved towards it.

Touching the wood tenderly, she said, "You still play. That's wonderful. You were always such a wonderful musician."

"Yeah, well. One thing I've always liked to do."

She looked at him. "Play for me? Please?"

He nodded and limping to the piano, sat down. He looked up, then patted the seat beside him. "Join me."

She sat down and he began to play, something soft and bluesy.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the music and his voice. She bent her head to rest on his shoulder as he played. The music reminded her of days past and time lost. And made her think of wasted opportunities. How many moments did she have left? How many more opportunities would she miss? How could she let another one pass?

He finished the song and turned to her. She smiled and leaned in to him. His lips met hers and his arms went around her. She clung to him as the kiss grew deeper. His hand started moving up and down her back and then under her top. When he touched her bare skin, she moaned and reached her hands inside of his shirt. He pulled her closer, but then she pulled back.

He muttered a curse, but she said, "No, it's okay, Greg, I want this too. But I think we're a little old to be bouncing around on a piano bench. I assume there's a bed here."

"Oh, yeah, there's a bed. Come on." He rose and held out his hand. She took it and walked with him into the bedroom.

The queen size bed was messy, but seemed clean. As soon as they were in the room, he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her. He continued his exploration of her body, moving his hands once again under her blouse and up her back. She started to unbutton his shirt, slowly, revealing the grayish brown hair on the lean torso. She slipped it off of his shoulders as he pushed her top up over her breasts. She stepped back, raised her arms and removed the top. Her bra was simple, cream colored, with a light trace of lace on the edge. Even as a teenager, she had never worn sexy underwear, opting for the sweet instead.

Her breasts were a little larger than he remembered, perfect round globes that he longed to touch. He reached out and gently touched the edge of the bra, then moved his hand inside. As his fingers caressed her nipple, she sighed. He reached behind her with his other hand and deftly unhooked the bra, watching as it fell to the floor.

He bent his head and took her nipple in his mouth. She moaned a little. He lifted his head and whispered in her ear, "Let's get in bed and get naked."

She smiled. "Good idea." She undid her slacks and pulled them off, then her panties. She slipped into bed. He undid his jeans, but didn't take them off until after he slid under the covers. She realized he was embarrassed about his leg. She knew this wasn't the time to push him about that, but she would have to make him understand that imperfections like that were only superficial to her and meant nothing.

He was already hard, their make-out session on the piano bench had taken care of that. So when he pulled out a condom, it was easy for him to slip it on.

He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. His hands started roaming her body, up and down her back, then touching her breasts and playing with the nipples. He took one in his mouth again and sucked. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. He moved his hand down and found her core. His fingers started teasing her slowly and softly and she could feel excitement building in her. One digit slipped inside of her and she practically jumped off the bed. She couldn't hold back her release and he held her as she did, saying, "Yeah, baby, come for me."

Before her spasms of joy had subsided, he was on top of her and entering her in one quick stroke. She felt wonderful to him. Hot and tight and wet. But mostly it felt as though he had come home. He didn't understand that, so he pushed it aside and began moving up and down, in and out. Before long she was panting and he was about ready to let go. With one more thrust, he found himself tumbling over the abyss.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Afterwards, they lay entwined. Her hands rested on his chest, while his caressed her back.

He looked at her face, still so beautiful. "I assume this is a moot point now, but are you seeing anyone?"

"No. There was someone just before I left New York, but that ended."

"That why you left New York?"

"I was mugged. Oh, I wasn't hurt," she quickly added when she saw the concern on his face. "The guy just took my purse and knocked me down. But it freaked me out. The city didn't seem like home anymore. And so, when Michael was moving here, I thought, here's a chance to get away from the city while still close enough to see friends, and spend some time with my son before he settles down with a wife and doesn't want to spend time with mom."

"Makes sense."

They lay there like that for a while, then she asked him, "Remember when you sang to me on my birthday?" 

"Yeah, I do."

"My Sweet Lady – still one of my favorites. I felt so bad when John Denver died."

"Yeah, that sucked."

She looked at him, a small smile on her face. "It was so sweet when you did that for me. I've never forgotten it."

"It wasn't sweet. I wanted to score that night."

"You would have scored anyway. It was sweet. You were sweet." 

"I'm not sweet anymore."

She tilted her head, observing the solemn expression on his face. "I think you are. I think that sweet boy I knew is still inside you somewhere."

"Don't spend too much time looking for him. You'll be disappointed."

He closed his eyes, effectively ending that conversation. Marianne lay there, considering his words and wondering.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They were jarred awake by the ringing of the telephone. House slowly opened one eye and glanced at the clock. Three a.m. He reached out and picked up the receiver.

"What?" he barked.

"We have a case." Michael told him.

"Not at three a.m., we don't."

"Hey, it's not my fault. I just talked to the ER. They've got a patient for you."

House rubbed his eyes and sat up a bit, trying to get his bearings. Marianne stirred beside him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Go back to sleep." He whispered to her, then to Michael, "First of all, the ER doesn't assign my cases, Cuddy does. Second, the ER knows better than to call in the middle of the night. They would have Cuddy do it. Third, they would call me, not you."

"You think I'm lying?"

"I know you're lying. So unless you want to call OUR boss, Dr. Cuddy and have her call me to come in to work, I suggest you go back to bed with your dolly and leave me alone."

He hung up the phone.

"Was that the hospital? Do you have to go to work?" she asked him. "I understand if you do, it's okay. After all you're a doctor."

"Yeah, I'm a doctor, but it wasn't the hospital. It was a spoiled little boy trying to ruin Mommy and Daddy's fun."

"It was Michael? But the hospital probably called him."

"They wouldn't call him first."

"What if they did?"

"Then, in about two minutes, Cuddy will be calling me and demanding that I go into work."

They were both silent, watching the phone and waiting. It didn't ring. House's smug smile said 'told you.'

"This is ridiculous!" Marianne complained. "You two are acting like children."

"Hey, I'm not the one…"

"It's both of you. You need to settle this – now. Okay, here's what we're doing. You, Michael, Allison and I will have a civilized dinner together on Friday. We will talk like adults and we will settle these differences once and for all."

"But…"

"If you ever expect a repeat of tonight, you will do as I say!"

"Yes, ma'am." He said. "So, do you think I could get a preview of that?"

She smiled. "Maybe."


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Dinner was a strained affair. Michael didn't eat much, but he did glower at House quite a bit. House ate his dinner, mostly in silence to keep his word to Marianne, but he did peer at all of them with a steely gaze. Marianne and Allison kept talking incessantly, trying to fill the void left by the men's animosity with noise. Finally, House had enough of their inane chatter.

"Will you two shut up? My God, if you say anything more idiotic, I may have to blow my brains out."

"Hey," Michael said, "Don't you talk to them like that. And blowing your brains out might do everyone a favor."

"Michael!" Marianne admonished her son.

"No, let him talk. You think you can out talk me, kid?" House asked.

"God, no. There's not a person on this earth could out talk you."

Allison giggled.

House turned on her. "Oh, you think your boyfriend's funny?"

"Yes, I do." She said. "And he's right."

"Well, you should know. Guess you know whether I can outdo him at other things as well."

Michael was on alert at that. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Ask you girlfriend."

Michael turned to her, as Allison said to House, "What are you talking about?"

"You mean you haven't told him about us? Tsk, tsk, and I thought what we had was so special."

"There was no US. We didn't have anything." Alison said frantically.

"So you didn't tell him. Guess I can understand. You don't want him thinking you're comparing father and son."

"Greg, shut up." Marianne said.

"Allison?" Michael addressed the younger woman.

"There is nothing to tell, Michael, I swear!"

"Our dates were nothing?"

"You went out with him?"

"Once!" She looked at House for confirmation. "We went on one date!"

""I count two."

"The Monster Truck rally wasn't a date. You said so."

"I was lying."

"It wasn't a date!"

"I bought the tickets, I picked you up. Hell, I even sprang for the cotton candy."

She glared at him.

"Okay, if you don't want to believe it was a date, fine. Hurt my delicate feelings. But the dinner definitely was. You made sure that we called it a date."

"It was a mistake." She turned to Michael. "It was a mistake, it was terrible. It was totally wrong."

"And then there was the kiss." House continued.

Michael had fury in his eyes as he looked at his father. "You kissed her?"

"Actually, she kissed me."

"You're lying."

"Ask her."

Michael turned back to Allison.

"It – it wasn't like that! I was trying to get a sample…"

"Yeah," House said, "We know what kind of sample."

"Did you sleep with him?" Michael asked her.

"NO! Never!"

"Not for lack of trying…on her part." House said smugly. He was enjoying this so much, he failed to notice the look on Marianne's face.

Michael turned away from all of them. When he turned back, his face held disappointment and sadness.

"You should have told me all this, Allison. For me to hear it from him…just makes it worse."

"Michael, I'm so sorry. I should have told you. But there really wasn't anything. I was dazzled by a brilliant older man. I had a crush. We went on a one date. It did not go well. In time, I grew out of it. I don't feel anything for him anymore—except maybe disgust." She said, with a glance at House at the end.

"You still should have told me. He's my goddamn father, for Christ's sake."

Allison started to cry. "I'm so sorry."

"I think I better take you home. I need to be alone for awhile."

He walked out of the house. Allison gave a pleading look to Marianne and a disgusted one to House, then followed him.

"Well, that went well." House said. "I love family dinners."

Marianne stared at him for a few moments. "You were right, Greg."

"I usually am. What specifically was I right about?"

"We've changed and we don't know each other that well."

"Well, sure…"

"Because the young man that I knew would never have set out to hurt another person like that. Especially his own son."

"I'm not that man anymore."

"I know."

'What do you expect me to do? He baits me, he acts like I raped you and left you for dead. I'm supposed to sit here and let him act like the royal prince?"

"You're supposed to be a father and have a little patience."

'I don't have patience and I don't know a damn thing about being a father."

"Don't you know anything about compassion?"

"What did I have to be compassionate about?"

Marianne was incredulous. "He's in love with her. You just effectively ripped his heart out with what you said. Do you know what it feels like to lose the first girl you ever loved?"

"Yeah," he said. "I do."

He picked up his cane and walked out.


	32. Chapter 32

Thanks everyone who is kind enough to review. I know that I've been slow to respond to each of you, but I read and appreciate every one of them. I'm happy the readers seem to enjoy this story. There's a lot of drama and romance still to come, so stay tuned.

Thanks!

Chapter 32

Part 1

House was trying – unsuccessfully – to sleep. Although he had convinced himself that he had only told the truth and therefore hadn't done anything wrong, Marianne's thoughts on it were quite different. She was upset that he would hurt their son that way. Michael was angry – at him and Cameron. And Cameron just hated him. Not that these reactions were any different from most people's feelings towards him, but for the first time in his life, these people were starting to matter.

Michael was his son. As strange as that concept was, it was kind of cool too. He knew the young man hated him, but still…his son. And Cameron was the woman his son was in love with, so the chances are she would become his daughter-in-law. What a riot that was!

And then there was Marianne. She had always looked at him with trust and belief. She still did. He didn't know what to do about her. She would soon find out that he wasn't the man she thought he was, but he wasn't ready to disillusion her just yet.

As he lay in his bed, trying to work all this out, the phone rang. He reached out to pick it up, muttering a sleepy "Hello?"

"Greg, it's Michael!" Marianne's voice was anxious. "He's been in an accident. They just called me from the hospital. Oh, god, oh, god!"

"Calm down. What did they say?"

"Only that he's been in an accident. Apparently he was drinking, the idiot!"

"Is he at Princeton-Plainsboro?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's good."

"I – I have to go…I don't…"

"Stay right there. I'll come and get you."

"Oh, Greg, would you?"

"You don't sound like you can drive right now. I'll be there in ten minutes."

He dressed as quickly as he could and was pulling into her driveway as she ran out of the house. She quickly jumped into his car and they took off. A few minutes later, they were in the ER after parking in his space in the lot.

House sought out the nurse and found out where Michael was and what doctor was treating him. He told Marianne to wait there and he would find out.

Moments later, he returned and told her, "He's okay. Mostly cuts and bruises, but nothing broken and no internal injuries."

"Oh, thank God!"

"But there is a problem."

She looked at him.

"His blood alcohol level was over the legal limit. The police are waiting to arrest him when he's released."

"No!"

House nodded. "Look, I can make sure they keep him here overnight. But in the morning, they're going to take him into custody."

"But I can post bail, right?"

House inclined his head. "Not much chance of a judge working on Sunday to arraign him. Probably won't happen until Monday."

Tears started to well in Marianne's eyes. "I don't want him to spend even one night in jail!"

"It's not that bad, he'll survive."

She was about to ask him how he knew that, but decided to let that wait. "He's my baby, Greg."

"He's almost thirty years old!"

"He's still my baby."

House just shook his head. There was no reasoning with a distressed mother.

"Can I see him?" Marianne asked.

"In a bit. They're patching him up now and he's kind of out of it anyway. We're getting him a room too, so you can see him then."

She nodded and turned to sit on one of the hard ER chairs.

"You don't have to stay here." He told her. "Come with me."

He left ER with her following. He brought her into his office.

"Chairs are little more comfortable here. Do you want coffee or anything?"

"That's okay, you don't have to make me any."

"I was going to say you can make some if you want it. I wasn't going to make it."

She smiled at him.

"Okay, I'm gonna go find out what's happening. I'll come back and get you when you can see him."

"Thank you, Greg."

He nodded.

When he returned to his office an hour later, he found Marianne curled up on his chair. Her eyes were closed and she held his big red and gray tennis ball in her hands. He watched her for a moment, then reached down and touched her shoulder. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him.

"Michael?"

"He's okay. You can see him now." He reached out and took the ball. "Who said you could play with my toys?"

"Hmmn, I didn't think me handling your ball would be a problem."

"Cute. But I do the jokes."

They left and went to Michael's room. Marianne rushed in and to his bedside, House stood in the doorway. He wanted to give her privacy, but he was also curious as to what she would say to him. Curiosity won. He leaned against the door frame.

"Are you alright, honey?"

"Feel like I just crashed my car into a tree. Oh, wait, I did." Michael tried to smile, but it hurt.

"They say you're okay, no breaks, no internal stuff – just bruised, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. I can feel every one of them."

Marianne stared at him for a few moments, reassuring herself that her son was okay, then she said to him, "Well, you deserve to feel every one."

"Mom…"

"Michael, how could you be so stupid? You know better than to drink and drive! That was one thing Harry was adamant about. You do realize how disappointed he would be in you right now?"

"I know."

"You're destroying your career..."

"It's not going to destroy my career."

"Don't interrupt me. It will affect your reputation as a doctor. Do you realize you're going to be arrested? What does that say to patients, a doctor who's been arrested?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask lover boy over there. He's been arrested."

Marianne turned to see House standing there, then turned back to Michael. "This isn't about Greg, this is about you. Your reputation is important. And you were lucky that you only hit a tree and not another car. What if you had killed someone? THAT would definitely have impacted your career."

Michael was silent. He knew the ramifications of what he had done. "You're right, Mom, I'm sorry. I know I'm going to be arrested. I deserve to be in jail for this."

"It will probably only be for one night. On Monday, they'll most likely arraign you and set bail, then you can come home."

"No."

"What? No what?"

"No bail. Don't pay the bail. I deserve to spend time in jail for this."

"Michael…"

"No, Mom, I mean it." When she looked like she was about to protest, he added, "Mom, PROMISE me you won't pay the bail."

"Oh, Michael, don't!"

"Promise me, Mom."

"Okay, Michael, I won't."

"And promise me you won't ask him either to do it."

"Michael, you know, you already broke…"

"Yeah, but two wrongs don't make a right."

She sighed. "Alright, Michael, if that's what you want. You rest now, I'll talk to you later."

"No visiting me in jail, either, promise."

"Promise."

She leaned over and kissed him, then walked out of the room. House had already moved to the corridor. She sighed heavily.

"So you're not going to bail him out of jail?"

"I can't. I promised."

"Yeah, what was that all about?"

"When he was approaching the teenage years and all the problems that came with them, Harry and I were worried that he would get caught up in something bad, you know. So we came up with the Promise Deal."

"Promise Deal?"

"Yes, we made a deal with him. If any one of us made a promise about something, we would keep it no matter what. So that if he wanted to tell us about something he did, he just had to ask us to promise not to get angry or punish him or something. And we wouldn't. By the same token, if we asked him to do something, and he promised, he had to abide by that."

"That's stupid! You're giving a teenage boy free rein to do anything and you're promising to not punish him for it."

"But we made him promise not to do those things first off or to tell us. For instance, if he was offered drugs or was considering drugs, we made him promise to tell us first. He did and we were able to discuss it. The most important thing to keep teenagers out of trouble is setting limits and keeping communication open between you. The Promise Deal did that."

"So now you've promised not to bail him out?"

"Yes. So I can't bail him out. And I can't ASK you to do it."

"Yeah, so what are you…" he started to ask her, but she was staring at him intently. "Oh, okay, got it."

She smiled at him.

As they walked away from his room, they saw Cameron out in the corridor. She looked at House and Marianne and said, "How is he?"

House said, "You're a doctor – check the computer and find out. Read his chart."

She looked at him with murder in her eyes. "I did that. I know his medical condition.' She turned to Marianne. "How is HE?"

'He's okay. He realizes what he did wrong. He knows he's going to be arrested."

"But he'll get out on bail?"

House chimed in. "He doesn't want to. He feels he needs to be punished."

Cameron turned to him again. "You're the one who needs to be punished. None of this would have happened if you hadn't opened your big mouth, talking about things that never really happened."

"If you had opened your big mouth and told him the truth before this…"

Marianne sighed. "That's enough. Everyone can share the blame. But Michael still made the decision to drink too much and get into that car. I've always taught him not to blame others for his mistakes and I'm not going to go against that now. He did it and he'll be punished for it, end of story. Greg, it wasn't your place to tell Michael anything about Allison. Especially since it seems nothing actually happened. And Allison, you should be open with a man you supposedly are in love with. Or has that changed since you told me you were?"

Cameron lowered her head. "No, that hasn't changed. I should have told him. But honestly, Marianne, nothing happened."

"I believe you, but I'm not the one you need to convince. That man lying in that bed is the one. Go ahead and do it."

Cameron nodded, then gave Marianne a hug, before quietly going into Michael's room. House started to walk towards the door to spy on their conversation, but Marianne linked her arm in his and led him away.

"Let's give them their privacy to work this out."

"But…"

"Come on, take me home."

"But it's better than a soap opera." He whined.

"An R rated movie is better than a soap opera too."

House looked confused, then seeing her face, smiled, sighed and with one last glance at Michael's room, walked out of the hospital with her.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

They drove to her house and went inside.

Marianne went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "Do you want anything to eat?" she called out, thinking he was still in the other room. She was surprised when his arms went around her waist.

"Just you." He said. She turned and kissed him, then sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes. Just, I don't know. Michael never got into trouble before. This is so out of character for him." She pulled away and walked over to the sink, turning to face him.

"I'm sure he did stuff in college, all guys do." House said.

"Not Michael. Or, if he did, it was so minor that I never caught wind of it. Harry had such high hopes for him. He was so proud of his accomplishments in school and that he wanted to be a doctor. Michael never wanted to disappoint Harry. And Michael was only 20 and still in college when Harry died. From then on, he had to do it as a testament to him. So, no, he never really got into trouble before."

"Then his real father comes into his life and it falls apart."

"No, Greg, it's not your fault. Michael made choices. He could have just accepted this and gone on with his life. But he chose to let it eat at him, destroy him. He has to look at himself and decide what sort of man he wants to be. Finding out about you shouldn't ruin his life. I can't blame you for his attitude.

"I'm still upset with you, though, for your handling of the situation with Allison. Michael should not have found out that way." When House opened his mouth to speak, she held up her hand. "I agree, she should have told him. But you didn't need to. That was just childish and vindictive of you."

House looked at the floor, avoiding her gaze. "I'm sorry." He muttered.

"What? What did you say?"

"I said, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. It wasn't my place to tell him. I was just trying to get the better of him and it was a stupid thing to do. And there really was nothing between Cameron and me."

She smiled at him and moved towards him again. She put her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. "I can't believe the arrogant Gregory House gave me an apology."

"Yeah, well, don't let it get around or everyone will want one." His arms wrapped around her as he spoke.

She kissed him then, full on the mouth. He deepened it and soon their hands were moving up and down each others' bodies.

She pulled her lips away from his long enough to say, "Bedroom. Better than kitchen."

He nodded and let her lead him out of the kitchen and into her room. She started removing her clothes and he took off his shoes and socks and his shirt. His pants were still on.

"You can take your pants off in front of me, Greg."

"You don't want to see the scar."

"Oh, honey, I've already seen your scars and they're not on your leg." She reached out and unbuckled his belt and then his fly. She moved the jeans down his legs until they touched the floor. Instinctively, he moved his hand down to his right leg, but she picked it up and put it on her. Then she reached out and caressed his leg.

"We all have scars. Some are on the outside where everyone can see them, but most are on the inside and they're much worse. This is superficial. It doesn't really mean anything and it doesn't define who you are. What does is how you treat people and how you choose to live your life."

"Well, those aren't good either."

"I know."

"It doesn't matter to you?"

"It does matter. But if I stay away from you, I can't help you. And you need a lot of help."

"What if I don't want your help."

"Too bad, you're not getting rid of me that easily."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. They fell onto the bed and their hands moved and caressed. He pulled himself up so that his head was on the pillow and pulled her along with him. She crawled on top of him, kissing his lips, his eyes, his ears, his neck, wherever her lips could touch. She moved down his body, trailing kisses down his chest and lower. She straddled him and taking his cock in her hands, rubbed it between her breasts.

He moaned with pleasure, especially when she reached down and took it in her mouth as well. She alternated between sucking it and rubbing it between her breasts. She also rubbed her breasts against his balls. He was in ecstasy.

She sat up and moved herself up. Reaching down with her hand, she took his cock and positioned it so that she could have him inside her. He helped by lifting her just enough so that he could enter her. Once he had, she started moving up and down, riding him. He flexed his hips as she did. He reached up and massaged her breasts as she rode.

She was so hot and wet and ready for him and before long she was crying out in joy as she came. He flexed some more and let her ride out her orgasm before he came as well. She collapsed on top of him, with him still inside of her.

Eventually, she rolled off and he gathered her close to him.

"Wow." He said. "That was…amazing!"

She smiled. "Glad you liked it."

"I can't believe you gave me a blow job."

"Greg, I was married for fifteen years. Do you think in all that time, I never gave my husband a blow job?"

"No, but back in high school you wouldn't do it for me. Your exact words were 'ew, no way!' "

"I was seventeen! I was naïve! What did I know about sex? Actually, everything I did know back then, I pretty much learned from you."

"And I was willing to teach you!"

"But how much did you really know? As I recall, it was your first time too."

"I knew enough."

She laughed. "Well, I have learned some since then. Would you like to see how much?"

"Oh, yeah."


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Michael spent the remainder of the night and some of the next day in the hospital. When he was released, he was immediately taken into police custody and charged with felony drunk driving. He was fingerprinted and locked into a cell.

As he lay there, wide awake, he thought about what he had done and what had brought him to this point in his life.

He had always loved his life. When the other kids complained about their parents and their lives, Michael had just smiled and said nothing. He had no complaints. His parents were wonderful. His mom was kind, loving, cool. Everything a mom should be. His dad was terrific – a friend as well as a parent. They treated him with respect and love all of his life.

Most things came easy to him as well. He was intelligent and got good marks in school without much effort. He was good at sports – not a star, but good enough to make the teams he wanted and to be an asset to them. He made friends easily. His arrogance only asserted itself professionally. With friends and girls, he was much more relaxed. He was a confident and happy person.

He decided at age ten that he wanted to be a doctor and he never looked back. Everything he did in school and otherwise was to get him to that goal. Harry's death only intensified his desire.

Gregory House was a doctor that he respected, even though he had never met him. Getting to Princeton Plainsboro Hospital was imperative. Once there, he knew he could manage to work for the man.

He thought he had everything he ever wanted when he became a part of House's team. He was working for the doctor he wanted to work with and he was in love with a beautiful and intelligent woman. Life couldn't get any better.

Finding out that House was his father had been an unexpected blow. Of course, he had been curious about his real father, but never to the extent that he asked his mother about him. He always just assumed that he was a huge mistake that his mother had made in her youth and that she had rectified by marrying Harry Newman.

It wasn't that he really minded House being his father. It some ways, it was cool. The doctor he most respected and wanted to work with and he shared his DNA. A bit of a wow.

But the shock of it just hadn't settled in him. It disrupted his life and he wasn't used to his life being disrupted. Playing games with him seemed like a good way to handle it.

Then came this revelation about Allison.

The woman he loved had been in love with his goddamn father. Maybe she still was. It was more than he could handle. So he had done a really stupid thing. And now maybe screwed up his life and career.

He knew that he had to seriously consider his next steps or he would end up somewhere he didn't want to be.

On Monday morning, he was arraigned in front of a municipal judge. His car had been impounded and his license suspended. Cuddy sent the hospital attorney to represent him at the arraignment, but the man advised Michael to hire a lawyer that specialized in drunk driving cases. Michael just nodded, not sure what to do next.

Bail was set and he was taken back to his cell. A little while later, a police officer called his name and told him he was free to go.

"What? Why?"

"Your bail was paid."

"I didn't pay it. I don't want to be out on bail."

"Someone paid it."

"Who?"

"I don't know kid. All they told me was to release you."

"But I want to stay in jail."

The police officer rolled his eyes. "Look, your bail's been paid, you have to leave. You wanna be in jail, go rob a store while the police are watching. That'll bring you back."

Michael reluctantly rose and followed the officer out of the cell.

While he was signing for his possessions, he heard a voice say, "Need a ride home?"

He wasn't surprised to hear House's voice. "Figures she'd get you to do this. Just can't believe she'd break a promise."

"She didn't. She never asked me."

"Right, you did this on your own. Out of all your fatherly devotion."

"Nope. Don't know anything about fatherly devotion. But I do know about her. And she didn't want you to be in jail."

"It wasn't her choice."

"But she's your mom. And she loves you. And if you love her, you won't let her lay awake each night worrying about her little boy in the big cold jail with all those mean men around him."

Despite House's sarcasm, Michael agreed with the gist of his words. He knew his mother would be worried and upset as long as he was in jail. But he wasn't going to give in to the man that easily.

"I can get home on my own."

"How? You don't have a car. Well, you have one, but it's a lot smaller than it used to be. Actually, you may have two cars, one with a driver's side and one with a passenger seat."

"I'll take a cab."

"Got money?"

Michael realized that he did not. "I'll walk."

House smiled. "Guess I really am your father. I passed on the stubborn gene. It's about five miles or so. You have to still be sore from the accident. Your mom will be so happy if you collapse on the walk home."

Michael knew House had painted him into a corner. He was sore and knew that he'd never be able to walk all that way. But if he accepted a ride, he'd be giving in to his father. The man he didn't want to be his father. Still, his mother was probably waiting anxiously for him to come home.

"Okay, you can drive me."

They got into House's car and rode in silence. House because he wasn't sure what to say and Michael because he was pissed at the older man. Finally, they pulled up to the house and as Michael got out, House said, "I have to go to work. Tell your mom I'll see her later. Oh, and I expect to see you at work tomorrow."

With that, he drove away.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Michael walked into his house and found his mother sitting on the sofa, reading a book, which she put down when she saw him.

"Hi." He said, avoiding her gaze.

She got up and went to him, taking his face in her hands and staring at him. "Are you okay?"

"Of course. I see that promises no longer mean anything to you."

"I didn't break my promise." Michael gave her a look and she continued. "I didn't ask him to bail you out. He did it on his own."

"Right."

"Michael, I'm not discussing that any further. Staying in jail was pointless. You want to be punished, fine, you will be. You'll be having a trial. Plead guilty and you'll be sentenced and punished. But staying in jail right now is just childish. So leave it be."

He knew she was right, even though he didn't want to concede the point. He sat on the sofa and she sat beside him.

"So what now?" she asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to continue drinking, getting drunk every time something doesn't go your way?"

"No. I may never drink again. Well, that's probably an exaggeration, but I didn't like the way I felt, totally out of control. And you were right the other day when you said, what if I had hurt someone? I'd never be able to live with myself if that happened."

"We're never too old to learn an important lesson."

"What about you? Are you going to continue seeing him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Marianne sighed. "Michael, you never wanted to know anything about my relationship with him. I accepted your feelings and respected your wishes. But you need to understand that it wasn't a one night stand and it wasn't a casual relationship. I LOVED him. He was my first and I don't regret that."

"I don't need details."

"I don't intend to give you details. But you have to know that it was a real, loving relationship. We cared about each other. I didn't plan on getting pregnant, and I never regretted having you, and I loved Greg House."

She didn't want to tell him that she had never stopped loving Greg House, even when she was married to Harry. That would hurt him, since he had loved Harry Newman.

"I don't know why it bothers me that you're with him. I don't know if it's because he's my father or my boss, but it just does."

"Then you'll have to get over it."

"And you're sleeping with him now, aren't you?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but, yes, I am."

Michael rubbed his face with his hand. "Guess I just have to be like Grandpa and pretend it's not happening. That's probably the only way I'm gonna be able to look at either of you without seeing you together in my head and puking."

She smiled. "Whatever works for you, honey."

He sighed, then looked at his mother. "Are we okay?"

She bent over and kissed him on the cheek. "Of course, we are. Michael, there's nothing you could do that would ever make me stop loving you. I may be disappointed at times, but I will always love you."

"I know."

"So, what about Allison? Are you two…"

"I don't know. I guess I should go see her."

"What did you say in the hospital?"

"She told me she was sorry and that she understood if I didn't want to see her anymore. I didn't really answer her. Then she left my room."

"Michael, nothing happened between them. He told me the truth. She was young, she had a crush, that's all."

"I know. At least, I think I know. I believe her. I just, I don't know what to say to her."

"Do you love her? I mean, do you really love her?"

"Of course I do, I told you before."

"Yes, but I had that doubt. I wondered if you used her to get the job with Greg."

Michael looked at the floor. "Maybe, at first. I mean, it was convenient. Here was a pretty girl AND she worked for House. How lucky could a guy get? But I fell in love with her. With her sweetness, her compassion, her, the whole package."

"Then you need to tell her. You need to make it up before it's too late. Don't lose her or you will regret it the rest of your life."

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Marianne drove Michael to Allison's apartment that evening. When she opened the door, they stood there looking at each other for a few minutes. Finally, he said, "Hi."

"Hi." She responded.

"Could I come in and talk to you?"

She opened the door wider and stepped aside.

"How are you?" she asked him.

"Fine. I'm fine."

"That's good."

They were silent, then she said, "Michael, I want you to know…"

He interrupted her. "I'm sorry, I still want to know exactly…but I shouldn't have gone off the deep end. I should have let you explain."

"I should have told you, but I didn't think it was important anymore."

He sat in a chair. "Tell me now."

She sighed and walked to the window, where she looked out at the night. "I was so naïve when I started working for him. He was so different from anyone I'd ever known. So mean, so sarcastic, so…brilliant. It was difficult. I started to think about him as more than my boss. I saw him as a man dealing with so much pain, both physical and emotional. I believed that all it would take to heal him would be someone to love him. Someone like me.

"When he didn't seem to return my feelings, I was afraid of losing myself, so I quit. There were politics at the hospital involved as well, but I chose to quit.

"Then he begged me to come back. I thought maybe there really was something, so I promised to come back if we went on a date. He agreed and we went out to dinner. He bought me a corsage."

"A corsage?" Michael sneered. "Did he think it was the Junior prom?"

"It was sweet." She smiled at the memory. "But I wanted a connection, a real conversation. So he told me exactly how he saw me. As someone who wanted to fix him. He was part right, I guess, I don't know for sure. But after that, things cooled and I realized it wasn't going to happen between us.

"It wasn't until I met you that I understood what was wrong before. I didn't love him, I wanted someone to take care of. I'd taken care of my husband because he had cancer when we got married. I thought that was what love was. But with you, I didn't have to take care of you. We could each be ourselves and we could be better because of that."

She turned back to him. "Michael, I love you. Only you."

He got up and went to her. He pulled her into his arms and held her close to him. "I love you too."

Later, as they lay in each other's arms, he said, "You just need to tell me one more thing."

"What?"

"Do I remind you of him at all?"

She considered that for a moment. "Well, of course, there's the eyes. Can't avoid them."

He rolled those eyes. "Let's put them aside. Anything else?"

"You're smart, almost as smart as he is."

"Almost?"

"He's older and more experienced. You'll get there. You're arrogant, very sure of yourself. You speak without thinking and sometimes act without thinking either."

"Well, thanks. I'm sorry I asked."

"Well, you got all of that from him. But you're also Marianne's son. You can be kind and gentle too. You're a decent person, he isn't always."

Michael lay back, thinking it over. "I don't know if I'll ever come to terms with being his son."

She hugged him. "You only need to come terms with yourself, nothing else. He is what he is. You are who you are. Once you come to terms with that, you'll be able to accept him too."

He held her tighter and hoped she was right.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

In the days that followed, House found himself enjoying the pleasures that were Marianne: delicious home cooked meals, pleasant and easy companionship and, of course, mind-blowing sex.

He stopped at her house almost every night for dinner. She always had something ready for him. She loved to cook and wanted to be sure something was there for Michael if he should come home for dinner. But he stayed away from the house as much as he could, spending most of his time at Cameron's. Since he couldn't' drive, it was just easier to stay at her place so that they could go to work together.

He was forced to deal with House at work, he didn't want to deal with him in his home.

After dinner, House and Marianne would usually curl up on the loveseat in her room to watch TV. She let him control the remote – most of the time. She held fast for her favorite programs and, even though he grumbled, he relented. They always ended up in bed.

The sex was better than he could have hoped. She had gotten more adventurous in the thirty years since he'd first known her, doing things she never would have done back then. He questioned his good luck in finding her again and finding her to be so perfect. He wondered if she was too perfect.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Inevitably, it came time to meet each other's friends. First, of course, was Wilson. He had been bugging House for a chance to meet the new woman in his life. Marianne, as well, had asked House to bring his best friend over for dinner. Finally, House relented and Wilson joined them for a dinner of Veal Marsala.

They got along famously. There was a lot of laughter at the dinner table and in the living room after with coffee and dessert. Wilson thought she was terrific and told House so the next day.

"I don't know how you do it!" Wilson said.

"Do what?"

"Get a woman like that – beautiful, warm, funny, just…terrific. How do you do it?"

House waggled his eyebrows. "I could tell you. But then I'd have to kill you."

"Seriously, House, she really is terrific. How are you planning on screwing this one up?"

"Have a lot of faith in me, don't you?"

"I just know you. If you can find a way to ruin this, you will."

House just glared at him.

Meeting her best friend was a little harder.

Sandy was her agent as well as her friend. She had some contracts and other business for Marianne, so she came down from New York in the early afternoon, with plans to stay overnight.

The two friends discussed business first to get it out of the way and justify Sandy deducting this trip as a business expense. Then Marianne poured them two glasses of wine and they settled on the sofa to catch up.

"So, anyway," Sandy said, "This guy's name in Allejandro and he is gorgeous. He looks just like Antonio Banderas."

"Oh my God, just your type!"

"Honey, hot and gorgeous is always my type."

"Congratulations and good luck with him." Marianne said.

"So, what about you? Any action since you moved to the sticks?"

"Princeton is not the sticks."

"Compared to New York it is."

Marianne smiled. Sandy watched her and tilted her head suspiciously. "Oh, oh, that smile! You have been getting some, haven't you?"

"Actually, there is someone."

"Okay, spill. I want to know everything, in detail. And if you leave anything out, I'll know."

Laughing, Marianne sighed and said, "Well, actually, he's someone I dated a long time ago and we just reconnected."

"How long ago?"

"Um, like, um, thirty years."

Sandy was silent thinking. Then she said, "But thirty years ago you were in high school. And that's when you met Michael's father."

Marianne nodded. Sandy stared at her, then her eyes grew wide. "Oh, my God! Are you saying…it's Michael's father?"

Marianne nodded again. Sandy sat back, stunned. "How does he look?"

"Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous."

"Wow. And what's he like?"

"Well, he is a doctor. Actually, he's Michael's boss."

"So Michael knows? How's that going?"

"Don't ask. He's changed some from when I first knew him, but we're getting to know each other."

"In every way, I take it."

"Yeah, kind of."

"Well, good for you, girl." Sandy studied her friend's face. "You really care about him, huh?"

"Yeah, I do."

"So when do I meet him?"

"Tonight. He's joining us for dinner."

House was almost hoping that a case would pop up and allow him to avoid dinner. He tended to not make a good impression on women's girlfriends. All of Stacy's friends couldn't stand him. Not that he liked them much better. This woman had apparently been Marianne's friend for over twenty years. He didn't hold out much hope for the evening.

When he arrived at her house, he found the two women on the sofa, laughing and drinking wine. Marianne immediately kissed him and then led him over to meet her friend.

"Greg, this is my agent and my best friend in the world, Sandy. San, this is Greg."

Sandy examined the man standing before her. Marianne was right, he was gorgeous and without even trying to be. The mussed hair that was laziness, not fashion statement. The scruffy beard that made him look more sexy. The lean, muscular body despite the cane and the limp. And those blue, blue eyes! A woman would find herself doing all sorts of things she didn't want to do for those eyes.

House studied the woman too. She was medium height, with black hair and dark eyes. She and Marianne could almost have been sisters, but this woman had a worldliness and street savvy that Marianne had never developed. Marianne was sweet, Sandy was tough.

Still, they were friends and as her friend, Sandy was going to check this guy out and make sure he was worthy.

Marianne went into the kitchen to prepare the antipasto, giving Sandy a look first that said, take it easy on him. Sandy just smiled.

Sandy took a sip of her wine, looked House straight in the eye and asked, "So how do you feel about Michael?"

"Like I missed a lot of Father's Days. The kid owes me at least a half dozen ties and a couple of those clay ashtrays."

"And how do you feel about Marianne not telling you about him?"

"Like it's between me and Marianne."

She eyed him cautiously. "You need to know – that woman is very special to me."

"Really? So you'd be up for a threesome?"

"No, but if you are, you're with the wrong lady."

"You don't think I know that?"

"I don't know what you know. But I know that we've been friends – best friends – for a very long time. I don't take kindly to anyone hurting her and I won't stand for it."

"You don't have a lot of faith in me, huh?"

"I don't know you well enough to have faith in you."

"Then how do you know I'll hurt her?"

"You're the type. So, I'm just warning you."

"I don't like being warned or threatened. If things go wrong between us, it's between Marianne and me."

"Things can go wrong, I know that. But if you mess with her head or deliberately hurt her, watch out."

House eyed her. He could tell that this woman meant every word she said.

At that time, Marianne came back into the room carrying a platter filled with lettuce, olives, tomatoes, peppers, tuna, salami and provolone. She passed out the plates that were sitting on the table and passed the antipasto around.

As they ate, House sent little digs at Sandy. She neatly deflected them and got lots of her own in. He was enjoying the back and forth even thought he realized she was testing him. By the end of the evening, when she went upstairs to the guest room, they had reached a tentative truce. House wasn't sure if he'd won or lost that battle.

But the next evening, when he went to Marianne's house, she told him, "Sandy likes you."

"Really?"

"Why are you surprised?"

"Well, most people don't like me. And especially the friends of women I'm dating."

"There's a lot to like about you. You just don't realize it. And by the way, are we dating?"

"I thought we were."

"It seems to me that we're sleeping together and I'm cooking for you. I don't recall going on a date with you, in, oh, about thirty years."

He realized that was true. Since they'd reunited, he hadn't taken her out. He'd mooched dinners and sex off of her, but he hadn't spent a dime.

The next night he took her out to dinner. He even wore a suit. Marianne was surprised and pleased.

Their relationship was growing steadily.


	37. Chapter 37

**There's a lot of you reading out there, but only a few telling me what you think. Come on, take the plunge, hit that little "submit review" button. It's really painless and it would make me really happy!**

**Thanks to all of you who are reviewing. I really appreciate it and I'm glad that you are enjoying the story. Sorry for this chapter**

Chapter 37

Michael hired a lawyer that was experienced with drunk driving cases. He convinced Michael to plead guilty and avoid a trial since penalties are usually less when you plead guilty. His lawyer was able to get the charges dropped down to misdemeanor DUI.

He could do that because Michael's prior record was clean. And the accident did not involve anyone other than Michael and the only damage was to his own car and his own body, but even those injuries were minor. Also, his blood alcohol level was under .10.

House laughed when he heard that. "I could perform surgery at under .10. Driving a car is a breeze."

Marianne scowled at him. "Michael doesn't drink as much as you, he's not used to the effects of alcohol. And I hope he never gets used to them."

So he ended up with a ninety day suspension of his driver's license and a hefty fine. He still had to face the medical review board, but there were a lot of doctors at the hospital that liked him and hated House. They assumed that working for House had caused the young man to behave as he did and they were willing to speak on his behalf.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House and Marianne were curled up on the loveseat in her bedroom watching TV when they heard Michael's voice in the living room.

"Mom! Where are you?"

Marianne hurried out of the room, House following slowly behind her.

"What's the matter?" she asked, looking at her son and Cameron. They looked flushed and excited.

Michael glanced at Cameron and smiled. She smiled back, then they both grinned at Marianne.

"We're engaged!" they said together.

"Oh my God!" Marianne screamed, hugged and kissed Michael, then did the same to Allison. "This is wonderful! You're getting married! A wedding! I love weddings!"

House stood back, away from them as they gushed and giggled.

Marianne turned to Michael. "Did you give her a ring?"

Michael looked embarrassed. "It kind of came up unexpectedly. And I was hoping, well, one time you said I could…"

"Oh, of course!" She ran into the bedroom and came out a few moments later and put something in Michael's hand. He smiled at her and kissed her on the cheek. Then he turned to Allison and took her left hand in his.

"Allison, tonight when you said you would marry me, you made me the happiest man in the world. I hope you will accept this ring. My Dad gave it to my Mom when they got engaged and I want to give it to you." He slid a beautiful square cut diamond onto her finger.

Allison stared at it, her eyes growing wide in wonder. "Michael, it's beautiful!" She turned to Marianne. "I can't believe you would give me your beautiful ring!"

"I always told Michael that it would be his some day. Harry would want him to give it to the woman he wanted to marry. I'm glad it's you."

Allison hugged her, tears filling her eyes. Michael smiled at both of them. After talking and laughing some more, the young couple left.

Marianne smiled at House when they left. "Isn't it wonderful? I think they'll be happy. They're really perfect for each other."

He didn't say anything.

She tilted her head as she looked at him. "You've been awfully quiet. Do you not want them to get married or do you just not like weddings?"

"I don't give a shit about weddings and it doesn't matter to me who they marry."

"Then what's wrong?"

"It's all the squealing, all the 'oh, I'm so happy' and 'oh, here's my beautiful ring,' God, you people are sickening."

"What's sickening about being happy? Our son is getting married and she's a lovely girl. Why shouldn't I be happy?"

"You should be. You are. You always are. And why not? Your life is perfect. Always has been."

"My life's not perfect."

"Yeah, you've had a really hard life."

"Greg, I was a pregnant, unwed teenager."

"And your family threw you out when they found out."

"Of course not! My family would never do that."

"Right, because you had a wonderful family who loved you. But then, you went to live with your aunt. And she mistreated you."

"You know she didn't. Aunt Lily is sweet."

"Well, then you had a hard pregnancy."

"No."

"Tough labor? Long hours in pain?"

"No."

"Michael was colicky, sickly? Kept you up all night?"

"He was a wonderful baby. He was sleeping through the night by the time he was three months old."

"Right. Then you married old 'Harry'". He said it with a hint of derision in his voice. "Harry beat you."

"He would never. He was a sweet, sweet man."

Not like me, he thought. "Then he was a heavy drinker, made your life miserable."

"Other than a cocktail or two at a party or a beer during a football game, Harry barely drank."

"But he treated Michael like shit."

"He adored Michael."

"Oh, maybe he liked him too much." He said with a leer.

"That's disgusting, Greg. Harry was a father to him. He was not a sexual deviant. He wouldn't think of being that way."

"Oh, so sex with Harry – kinda boring, huh?"

"Not at all. We had a very good sex life."

House really didn't want to hear that, but he couldn't stop himself from his tirade. "Well, then must have been Michael. Bad kid, always in trouble."

"Michael was a great kid. He got good grades, was well-behaved, well, with the limits of a normal smart, stubborn boy. We've always had a good relationship. We still do."

"Then maybe…"

"That's enough, Greg. What are you trying to prove?"

"I'm trying to find out what about your life isn't or wasn't perfect?'

"Sorry, I haven't suffered. My life has been good. What an intolerable sin. I can't believe it would make you happy if you knew I hadn't been."

"I didn't say it would make me happy."

"That's right, nothing would really make you happy."

"I'm just trying to make you see how different we are."

"So we're different? We always were. That doesn't mean anything."

"It means a lot. You're Miss Sunshine and Happy Times. I'm a rainy day. It wouldn't have worked then and it's not gonna work now."

She looked at him in confusion. "You want us to…break-up?"

"Yeah."

She was speechless for a moment, then said, "So just like that? It's over?"

"Yeah."

"What about Michael?"

"What about him?"

"He's still your son."

"Yeah, and he still hates me. I'll see him at work. Maybe in time, things will change between us. I doubt it, but who knows." He shrugged.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream at him. After thirty years, they had found each other again and he was pulling this? But she didn't. She stayed calm and said tightly, "Then I guess that's it. It was good seeing you again. Take care of yourself."

She turned and headed towards the kitchen.

He watched her for a moment, then sighed, picked up his cane and jacket and went home.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Marianne had tried to act as if House's rejection of her didn't matter. She was bright and cheery around Michael. After all, House was his father and he had to work with him. Their relationship was shaky enough. She didn't want to make it worse.

Since Allison's parents were dead, Marianne was happy to step in and do mother of the bride duties for her. They were looking at a simple and elegant event in three months time. Since they were both so busy with their work, she volunteered to be their wedding planner.

So, instead of moping about their broken relationship, she involved herself in helping to plan Michael and Allison's wedding and tried not to think about House. Except for alone at night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House hadn't seen Marianne in a few weeks. He'd been more miserable than usual, but wouldn't talk about it to anyone. He tried to pretend that nothing was wrong.

"Do you want to come over tomorrow and watch wrestling?" House asked Wilson.

"Let me guess: you still haven't made up with Marianne."

"Nothing to make up. We didn't fight. It's just not going to work."

"Right. You meet the girl you've loved for thirty years. It turns out she gave you a son. She's gorgeous and talented. Yeah, why would it ever work with her?"

"She's not the same person she was thirty years ago. I'm not the same person I was thirty years ago. We've changed too much. And my son hates me."

"Well, if you've changed, it's probably for the worst. Because nothing could be worse than this. Whereas she's probably changed for the better. So get to know her again. Court her. You won her once, you could win her again."

"Who says I want to win her?"

Wilson stared at him.

"Let it go." House said, then as Wilson started to open his mouth, added. "I mean it."

"Fine. But don't be surprised if someone else steps in. A beautiful woman like her won't be alone for long."

House just glared at him. Wilson put up his hands is surrender.

"So do you want to come over?"

"I, uh, have plans."

"To do what?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, because if you're washing your clothes, that's just pathetic, but you can do it another time. If you have a date, well…do you have a date?"

Wilson shuffled through papers on his desk, avoiding House's gaze as he said, "As a matter of fact, my plans do involve a woman."

"Sitting with an elderly aunt doesn't count."

"This lady isn't elderly."

"So it's a date?"

Wilson still avoided looking at him, which of course House picked up on. "I guess you could say that."

"Fine." House said, knowing he wasn't going to let it go.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next evening, House kept enough distance between his car and Wilson's as he followed his friend. If Wilson had admitted right out to having a date, House would have left it alone, but he had hedged and avoided looking at him. That spelled something he didn't want House to know. Which meant he had to find out what it was.

House started to get a sick feeling when he saw the direction Wilson's car was taking. And when he saw his friend's car parked outside of Marianne's house, his stomach twisted into a knot.

He sat in his car for several minutes, then carefully walked up to the house and peered in the window. What he saw pulled the knot tighter.

Wilson and Marianne were sitting on the sofa. Her back was to the window, but she had her hands in his and he had a tender expression on his face. They talked for a bit. There were glasses of wine on the table next to them. She bent her head as she spoke to him. He reached out and putting his finger under her chin, lifted her face to look at him. They stared at each other, then he said something to her. She fell into his arms and he put them around her.

House started getting angry. He wanted to burst in and punch him in his smug face. But he had let her go. He didn't have any right to her. Still…

As he was pondering this, he saw them rise. Marianne said something to Wilson and he nodded. She walked towards her bedroom and he followed.

House had enough. He turned away and limped back to his car.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It ate at him all night and the next day when he got to work, he burst into Wilson's office.

"You son of a bitch!" House exploded.

"What – what are you…?"

"I know."

"You know?"

"About Marianne and you? Last night?"

Wilson sat back. "Oh. How?"

"Does it matter? And did you think I wouldn't find out?"

"I know. I told her that you would find out. I wanted her to tell you."

"You could have told me."

"No, I couldn't. It was her decision."

"Like you didn't have a say in it."

"Only as far as going along with what she wanted."

"Oh, yeah, what she wanted."

"Yes, of course, she called me."

House started getting angrier. He didn't believe Marianne could betray him like this. Even though they weren't technically seeing each other, he had thought better of her than this.

Wilson watched his friend get more and more upset. He also seemed angry. Which perplexed him.

"Look, I wanted her to tell you."

"Sure you did."

"Of course I did! I told her to call you. You should have been there."

House just looked at him incredulously. "What?"

"Do you think I wanted to be there with her and not have you there as well?"

"Okay, you needed me? You don't know what to do on your own anymore?"

"Well, of course, I know what to do. Don't I do it with patients all the time?"

House was even more amazed. "I don't know, do you?"

"Of course I do. Checking for lumps is pretty standard for an oncologist."

When Wilson saw House's expression, he stopped.

"Wait a minute, you said you knew why I was there?"

"I thought I did."

"Did you think we were…?"

"Obviously, I was wrong." House said quietly. "Why didn't she come to the hospital?"

"She was afraid that Michael – and you – would find out. She wanted to keep it to herself."

"So what did you find?"

"You know I can't tell you."

"You already did. A lump. I got that. What did you find?"

Wilson sighed. "There's a lump. She's coming in tomorrow for a biopsy."

House tapped his cane on the floor a few times. "Okay.' He said.

"Are you going to be there?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because if she'd wanted me there, she would have told me."

"She doesn't want your sympathy. She doesn't want you to be with her just because of the lump. She wants you to care about her and to be with her because you do."

House was silent, then said, "Guess I would have to care for that to work."

Wilson smirked. "I know you care. You're just too stubborn or stupid to admit it. You were ready to punch me out because you thought I was with her. And why would you think I'd move in on your woman?"

"She's not my woman." House said morosely.

"Yes, she is. You just refuse to admit it."


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

The next day, House was lurking in the corridor near the exam room where Marianne was having the biopsy. He had checked the hospital computer and found what time she was scheduled, and then he made sure he got there after she went in. When Wilson came out, he wasn't surprised to see his friend there. House looked a question at him.

He shrugged. "Fine, so far. We'll have the results tomorrow."

"Why so long?"

"Lab's backed up. I had to pull strings for that. I knew you'd torture me until I had them."

House cursed under his breath. He could yell and threaten, but in all honesty, he knew it wouldn't do any good and at that moment, he didn't have the heart for it.

When Marianne was dressed and left the exam room, she wasn't totally surprised to see House in the corridor. She had sensed that he would discover what was happening and when James told her about their conversation, she knew he'd be there. Or maybe she'd hoped he'd be.

"Hi." She said.

"Hi." He replied.

She took a deep breath and just stared at him. He stared back and they stayed that way for a few moments. She bit her lip to hide the emotion she was feeling. She didn't do a very good job of it. He went to her and put his arms around her. She put her head against his shoulder and her arms around his waist.

"Thanks for being here." She told him.

"S'okay. How are you doing?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

He smiled. He wanted to reassure her, but he wasn't a man to give out meaningless reassurances.

"When was your last mammogram?"

"Six months ago."

"Clean?"

"Yes."

"Do you self-check every month?"

"Yes."

"Every month?"

"Yes, without fail."

"You're positive?"

"I'm positive."

"Most people aren't that positive."

"My mom died of breast cancer, I'm positive."

He stopped and looked at her, not wanting to tell her what she probably already knew – that heredity played a big part in breast cancer. He didn't have to.

"I know. That makes my chances higher. That's another reason why I never miss."

"Did you have the test?"

She knew he was referring to the test that would tell her if she had inherited the breast cancer gene.

"No." she said.

"Why the hell not?"

"I don't want to know."

"But…"

"Look, Greg, I do everything I can to fight the disease. I don't smoke, I drink moderately, I eat healthy, I exercise. I get regular mammograms and I self-test monthly. I do everything I'm supposed to do. If I still get cancer, well, there's nothing more I could do to stop it. But I don't need to know it's coming."

He understood. Even though the doctor in him wanted to know and wanted her to know, as a man who cared about her, he could understand how she felt. No one wanted a death sentence hanging over them.

"Can I come over tonight?" he asked her.

"Do you want to?"

"Do you want me to?"

"No games, Greg, just tell me."

He looked at his shoes for awhile before saying, "Yes."

She took a deep breath and said, "Then I'll see you tonight."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When he arrived, he was unsure how to act, what she would think. But her mind was full of the test and she greeted him with a hug, which she held for a long time. He looked down at her.

"You okay?"

"Yes. I'm thinking positive thoughts. I just missed you. I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here too." He moved into the room. "So, have you told Michael?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why should I? At this point, I don't even know what it is. It could be absolutely nothing. There's no reason to worry him."

"He's your son."

"Exactly. And a mother doesn't make her child worry needlessly."

"Well, excuse me, I don't know much about being a parent. But as a son and a doctor, I'd want to know if something was going on with my mother."

"But your mother wouldn't want you worrying until there was a reason to worry. After the test comes back, I'll tell him."

House was going to say more, but the look on her face stopped him. He put his arms around her and just held her.

"Can I ask you something?" she said.

"You just did."

She shook her head. "Are you here because you feel sorry for me?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, the last time we spoke…"

He pulled her closer to him and whispered in her ear. "Forget about the last time we spoke. I'm here now. Okay?"

"Okay."


	40. Chapter 40

**Sorry, sorry, sorry for the delay folks! i know you've been waiting to hear the test results. Had a rough week. Here's the next chapter and I'll try to add another one later today. Thanks for your patience.**

**I want to thank the few peopel who take the time to comment. It really brightens my day and makes me want to post more when I see those reviews. Anyone else? **

Chapter 40

House didn't have a patient and decided to stay awhile with Marianne. He thought Cuddy would understand, given the circumstances.

They had spent a wonderful night together. No sex, he just held her late into the night and Marianne was feeling very positive. There was a very real possibility that she was fine. And the incident had brought Greg back to her. So all was good.

She was laughing at something he said, when the phone rang. Absently she picked it up and was still laughing when she said, "Hello?"

She took a breath and smiled as she said, "Oh, James, hello!"

House watched as the smile on her face receded and she grew serious. She nodded and started saying, "Umm-hmm. Yes, I understand. Yes, sure. Yes, could you? Okay."

She turned to him and held out the phone. "He wants to talk to you."

He took the phone and she went to the sink, standing there with her back to him.

"What?" he barked to Wilson.

"House, it's malignant."

The earth stopped turning and stood perfectly still on its axis for a moment when he heard those words.

Once he could breathe and talk again, he asked, "What do you know?"

"I've got her scheduled for surgery on Monday. We'll remove the lump and begin treatment right away. There's every chance that we'll be able to…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know the spiel, blah, blah. Why are you waiting until Monday? That's four days from now. Can't we do it sooner, like, I don't know, today?"

"I want Masterson to do it, but he's away. He's the best. He'll get it all. And that's what we want."

House was silent for a moment, thinking. He knew Dr. Masterson and he was the best surgeon at PPTH. If he had to choose a surgeon to operate on his lady, this would be the one. Still…

"Nothing we can do until then?"

"Just stay calm and think positive."

"Yeah, I'm real good at those things."

House hung up and limped over to Marianne. He put his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Apparently not. I have breast cancer."

"True."

"Wow, thanks for the reassurance!"

"I'm all about nurturing."

They walked into the living room. Marianne sat on the sofa, while House gathered up his backpack. He knew he'd better make an appearance at the hospital. As he was bending down he heard a sound behind him. When he turned around, he saw she was crying.

He turned to her. "What's the matter? Something hurting?"

"I'm scared!"

"Well, of course."

"I'm not supposed to be."

"Who said?"

"People are supposed to be brave and fight to survive."

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"People who fight cancer aren't brave. They're just afraid to die."

"Greg!"

"It's true. Unless you go out and kill yourself as soon as you're diagnosed, you really don't have a choice. Either fight to live or die. Most people want to live. It's not bravery, it's survival."

She was still sniffing the tears, "But I shouldn't be like this right now. It's so early, they'll probably get it all, I'll probably be fine. Why am I so scared?"

He put his arms around her as he said, "Because you're human."

She put her head on his shoulder and said quietly, "Is cancer enough for you?"

"What?"

"Cancer. Is it enough hardship in my life or do I need more to be equal to you?"

He remembered the stupid things he had said to her. "I don't want you to suffer for any reason. I should never have said that. I'm glad you had a good life, that you and Michael were happy and taken care of." He paused. "I'd never wish cancer on you."

"I know." She said. "I was just being bitchy."

He smiled at her. "Who said you're allowed to be bitchy with me? You're supposed to be the perfect woman and never get mad at your man."

She snorted a laugh. "Yeah, and what fantasy world do you live in?"

He got up to go to work. At least she was in a better mood now. Hopefully, she wouldn't get depressed while he was gone.

He leaned over to kiss her. "I'll see you tonight."


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

She called Michael and asked him to come over that evening. He and Allison arrived after work. House was already there.

Michael eyed him suspiciously. He knew that House and his mother hadn't been seeing each other recently, so he wondered why he was there. But his mother seemed fine with the man's presence, so Michael held his tongue.

Marianne immediately started heating up food for them and serving it. When they were finished eating and in the living room with coffee, Michael looked at his mother and said, "So what's up?"

She met her son's gaze, brown eyes to blue. She knew he could see through her. The connection they had allowed them to sense things about each other. And from her phone call earlier that day, he had known that his mother had something important to say. When he saw House there, he was afraid of what she wanted to tell him.

Marianne took a deep breath and finally said, "Michael, last week I found a lump in my breast."

He just stared at her for a long time. "So when are you …"

"I already did. I had a biopsy yesterday."

"Well, good, then, everything's fine. Good to get these things checked out right away." Michael kept talking, mainly because he didn't want to hear whatever his mother was going to tell him.

"Michael. It's…oh, god, I can't even say the words."

"Then don't say it!"

"It's malignant." House said. "She has cancer."

The other three of them looked at him in amazement.

"What? It's the truth. Skirting around the words won't change that."

"Jesus!" Michael said. "I was afraid Mom was going to tell me she was marrying you or something. I'm almost happier about the cancer."

"Michael!" Allison said. "You don't mean that!"

Michael ignored her and faced House. "How can you be so callous? Don't you have any feelings at all for her?"

"Feelings have nothing to do with this. She's got to face this and so do you."

"Doesn't look like you have to face anything. You haven't even been around for the last few weeks. Doesn't look like you care one way or another."

Cameron exploded. "Will the two of you stop it? Marianne doesn't need to hear this. Take a look at her."

Cameron was sitting beside her, holding her hand, while Marianne sniffled quietly.

"Ah, geez, Mom, I didn't mean to…" He sat down beside his mother and glared at House. "It'll be okay. We'll get through this together. I swear."

"It's not that, Michael, it's just…I thought by now the two of you would have found a way to get along. I guess it's not going to happen, huh?" She looked up at House, then back at Michael.

"I don't know, Mom. There's a lot to take in right now."

"I know honey. Why don't you and Allison go?"

"We can stay, we don't mind. We want to be with you."

"Of course we do, Marianne." Allison said sympathetically.

"No, really, it's okay. I just need some time here. Please, honey."

It took a little more convincing, but they finally left. Michael glared at House one more time before they did.

Once the door closed behind them, Marianne sat back on the sofa and closed her eyes. House stepped forward and sat down beside her.

"Guess it's hard for him to hear the truth."

"Of course, it's hard for him. I'm his mother. The only father he's known died ten years ago. If I go, he's left with you. And that's not the most pleasing prospect."

"I know. I'm no one's dream dad."

"He doesn't think you care…about him, about me."

House sat back and stared at the ceiling for awhile, counting the tiles and trying to find the right words. "Caring's an overused word."

"Why?"

"People care about the environment. They care about their health. They care for children, pets. They care for the sick. They don't care just as much as they do care. What's the point of caring?"

"Well, if you care, maybe that person or thing is important to you. And maybe they know by your caring."

"I don't do caring." He turned to look at her. "But you're important to me."

She walked over to him and kissed him. He pulled her closer to him and kissed her back, opening his mouth to rub his tongue against her lips. She opened them and met it with her own. They rose and headed to her bedroom. Before long, clothes were removed and they were falling onto the bed.

He pushed her back against the pillow and started rubbing his body against her. She reached down and took his cock in her hand, moving it up and down until he was hard and ready. He slipped inside her. Her legs came up to encircle his waist as he started thrusting. Her head went back and she moaned in pleasure. He pushed into her, harder and harder, building the pressure between them. Before long, she felt herself building and as her orgasm exploded within her, he came right along with her.


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

They lay in bed later, arms and legs entwined, holding tight to each other.

"Greg?"

"Yeah."

"When they operate on Monday…" she hesitated.

"What?"

"Could I die on the operating table?"

All of his professional career, House had told patients the truth. The bleak, unadulterated truth. He had always believed that the best thing was for them to know what they faced and what their chances were. Sugar coating was not his way and he didn't get thanked like Wilson did.

For the first time ever, he was tempted to tell someone everything would be okay, even though he wasn't sure. And the reason he was tempted, was that he wanted with his entire being to believe that everything would be okay.

But he knew that lying to Marianne was not the way for them. Even though it hurt him as much as it would hurt her, he had to be honest.

"Yes, you could. Anyone could. It's always a chance."

She was silent, but held tighter to him.

"How about if I pick you up after I'm done work and we go away tomorrow?" he asked her.

"What do you mean, go away?"

"Go somewhere for the weekend."

"But I have to have surgery on Monday."

"Last I heard Monday wasn't part of the weekend. Come on, we'll leave tomorrow, come home Sunday night. What else are you going to do? Sit here and contemplate your death? Come on, let's go have some fun."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He picked her up and they headed southeast. He was thinking Atlantic City, she was thinking Cape May. They settled on Stone Harbor, finding a little hotel. She agreed to go to Atlantic City with him on Saturday night.

They drove down to Wildwood and walked on the boardwalk Friday night. Then she dragged him out of bed early on Saturday morning to ride bikes on the boardwalk. He said he couldn't ride, but she insisted and they rented a two-seater so that she could do most of the pedaling. After the biking, they had breakfast, and then returned to the hotel and he coaxed her back to bed, where they stayed until late afternoon.

When they rose, they showered, dressed and got in his car to head to AC. He splurged on an extravagant dinner, then they went to the blackjack tables. She refused to bet, but he pushed some twenties into her hand and forced her to. He lost all the money he had brought to gamble with and she ended up winning three hundred dollars.

She insisted on buying him something with her winnings, so they went to the casino gift shop and looked at the ridiculously expensive trinkets. She selected a sterling silver key ring that was engraved with "The Big One." He laughed, but put his keys on it in front of her at her prodding.

They went back to their hotel and got ready for bed. Once they were under the covers, she looked at him pensively. He could tell there was something on her mind and knew nothing else would happen until she spoke.

"What's the matter?"

"If they have to, um, you know, remove…you know."

"Your breast?"

"Yeah. Well, I'll understand if you don't want to be with me anymore. I mean, it'll probably be pretty ugly."

He looked into her beautiful face, then sat up. "Meg, nothing about you could be ugly. Does my leg repulse you?"

"Of course not. It makes me sad for all that you've lost. It makes me want to take care of you. It makes me proud of how you deal with it every day."

He nodded. "That's about what I'll feel if they have to cut anything off of you."

She smiled at him and snuggled closer, whispering, "Greg, I love you."

He just held her closer to him.

The next morning, they slept late and made love once more before they rose.

They had a lovely brunch, checked out of their hotel and headed for home. She made him stop a few times at outdoor farm stands and antique stores, so that by the time they got home, it was early evening. But she was laden with fresh vegetables and eggs and home baked breads. She quickly prepared a vegetable omelet, accompanied by the bread. It was delicious.

Michael came home after they were finished eating and told Marianne that he would take her to the hospital in the morning. He had just gotten his license back the week before.

House was about to protest, but the look on Marianne's face told him that she wanted to allow her son to do this. He just nodded.

The next morning, he went back to his apartment and showered and changed before going to work. He hopped on his motorcycle and headed to the hospital. By the time he got there, Marianne was in her room and being prepped for the surgery. Michael and Allison were with her, smiling and trying to be cheerful.

How he hated that, the false cheerfulness, the telling the person facing the knife that everything would be fine. And yet, he wanted to hear the words, he wanted to believe them. He approached her bed. Michael gave him a cool glance, then returned his attention to his mother. Soon the nurse came in to take Marianne to surgery.

Michael kissed his mother, while Allison gave her a hug. They smiled and said they'd see her when it was all over. Then they left the room, giving House a cursory look.

When they were gone, he went to her. He picked up her hand and studied it as if he'd never seen it before.

"Okay, so you just lay there, let them do their work, then come back here and go on with your life. Got it?"

She smiled at him, reaching up with her other hand to caress his rough cheek. "No problem."


	43. Chapter 43

Sorry for the delay in posting this. It's crazy time in my life. Thanks to those who continue to give me reviews, especially momsboys, gh2005, gertrude2034 and ruthie tudor. For the rest of you, come on, just a word or two is really appreciated.

Chapter 43

House knew he could have watched the operation from the observation area above, but couldn't bear the thought of watching them cut into Marianne. He thought about waiting outside the operating room, but decided that would be silly when he had a nice comfortable office. He sat in his comfy chair and tried to take a nap, but he was too restless to sleep. He tried the internet, but couldn't decide on a website. Gameboy, TV, music – nothing held much interest. He kept wandering out into the hall, hoping for a glimpse of Wilson, who he knew would be assisting on the operation.

Michael and Cameron were also restless, but they found work to do to keep them occupied. Or at least Cameron found work and forced Michael to help her with it. It managed to keep his mind partially occupied while he waited.

A few hours later, Wilson came into the office. House had just been in the hall and was walking back into his office when his friend entered. He turned quickly. Michael and Cameron rose and stared at him. Wilson looked down, not meeting their eyes.

"Masterson got all of the lump. We couldn't see any residuals. The surrounding area looks clean. Radiation should kill any cells that we couldn't see or we missed."

"What aren't you saying?" House asked.

"Before we were finished, she, uh, slipped into a coma."

"Are you sure?" Cameron asked, as father and son stared at him in shock. "It could just be…"

"She's in a coma. Brain waves indicate it."

Cameron immediately went to Michael and put her arms around him. He was shaking his head, holding back his emotions.

House wasn't so introspective. "What the hell did you guys do? It was a simple lump removal. How'd she end up in a coma?"

"I don't know what happened. Everything was going fine, textbook perfect. Then suddenly, it wasn't. She could come out of it just as quickly as she…"

"Yeah, yeah, I do know what comas are. What tests have you done to find out why?"

"Nothing yet. We need permission from next of kin."

"You've got it, go do what you have to."

"House, you're not next of kin." Wilson said, staring at his friend. They both turned to look at Michael. "I assume you're her medical proxy."

"Yeah, I am." Michael said. "Of course, do the tests, whatever tests. She can't stay in a coma. Not Mom."

They did tests. Then they did more tests. And found nothing. Even though House wasn't permitted to be her doctor, he reviewed all the test results, trying to find something that was missing. Wilson and Cameron were her doctors on record. Even though technically Cameron had a personal relationship with Marianne, she wasn't related and House wanted someone from his team working on her case. But it didn't matter. No matter what they tried or looked for, they could find no reason for her coma. The only hope was that she would wake up on her own.

Monday came to an end, with all of them doing shifts by her bed, hoping she would just wake up. Michael convinced Cameron to go home and get some rest. She did, but was back early Tuesday. Wilson took off for a few hours too, but House and Michael never left the hospital, usually alternating their time in her room, because the tension between them was too thick.

By Wednesday, everyone's nerves were on edge and father and son looked worn out. Wilson and Cameron begged and pleaded with each of them separately until they agreed to go home, take a nap and get cleaned up. They started to leave about the same time. The time House had spent on his chair or just standing outside Marianne's room, had done a number on his leg and he was limping worse than usual.

"Did you ride you bike to work?" Wilson asked him.

"Yeah." He said. "I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. You can't ride now. Your leg is obviously bothering you and you're so tired, you're going to collapse." He turned to Michael. "Would you give him a ride home?"

Michael was about to refuse and then took a look at the older man. House looked ten years older. Between the pain, the fatigue and the worry over Marianne, he was totally beat. He knew his mother would never forgive him if anything happened to his father.

"Sure." He said.

"Not necessary. I can take care of myself."

"Don't be an ass. Or at least, don't be more of an ass than you usually are. What would Mom think if she comes out of the coma to find you in the hospital or dead?'

House looked up at him, then silently nodded. He picked up his backpack and followed his son to the parking lot.


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

They were quiet on the ride to House's apartment, other than House giving him directions. When they pulled up in front of the apartment building, House said thanks and was about to get out when he paused.

Turning to Michael, he said, "Do you want to come in for a drink?"

Michael looked at him oddly.

"I need a drink right now. Figured you might too. It's better not drinking alone."

Michael shrugged. "Okay, why not?"

He followed House into the apartment and looked around a bit before sitting in a chair. House pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

"Rocks or neat?" he asked.

"I don't really like scotch."

"Okay, Marianne lied. You can't be my son."

Michael smiled slightly. "Actually, I've never really had much of it. Just a taste or two in college. Mostly drink beer or some wine at dinner with a lady. Despite my recent troubles, I've never been much of a drinker."

"Then you need an education in good scotch." House handed him the glass.

Michael took a healthy sip, coughed a bit and said, "Whoa."

"Just take it slow. You'll get used to it."

House took his place on the sofa, putting his feet on the coffee table. They sat in silence for a while, just sipping their drinks. Suddenly Michael sat up and looked House in the eye.

"Are you in love with her or is this just a game?" he asked the older doctor.

"It's not a game."

"Are you in love with her?"

"I don't think I know what that means."

"Come on, if you love her, she means everything to you, you're lost without her, you'd die for her. It's how I feel about Allison. How do you feel about my mom?"

"I thought I knew what it was, once. Then I didn't. Then I thought I did again. But I was wrong again. I'm not the person anyone should ask about love."

"Do you resent her for not telling you about me?"

"I did. But I know that she did it because she truly thought she was doing the best thing for me. Thing is, what she didn't know is that she was actually doing the best thing for you."

"What do you mean?"

House tilted his head and looked at his son. "What sort of father was your dad?"

"The best. He coached Little League, he came to Boy Scout meetings, he helped me build models. He did everything he could. He never let a night go by without making sure he said 'good night' and 'I love you' no matter what. Even if he was away for business, he made sure to call. Sometimes I would hear noise in the background, so I know he was at dinner or a cocktail party or something, but he always checked the time, stopped and called.

"He was a friend to me, but he was tough when he had to be. He wasn't perfect, but he really tried his best. And I never for one minute ever doubted that he loved me."

House stared into his glass for a moment before saying, "That's what I mean. I would never have been that kind of father. I had no guide. My father…wasn't like that. You would not have had the perfect, Disney childhood if you'd been raised with me."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Pretty sure."

They contemplated that for a bit, then Michael said, "What do we do if she…doesn't wake up?"

"I have no idea." House said morosely and reached for the bottle to pour another drink. He refilled Michael's glass as well.

"My mom was so young when I was born, I figured she'd be around for a real long time. She was **that** mom, you know?"

House looked at him. "The hot mom, right?"

"Yeah. All my friends had crushes on her. I had to threaten them all when they made comments about her, but secretly, I was proud. Not that I wanted to think about the fantasies that they were probably having about her at night, but still. And she never dressed slutty or anything. Not Mom. But she always dressed well and she always wore make-up. And she was always so nice to everybody. And she'd cook and feed all my friends. Everybody came to parties at my house. Partly for the food, partly to see Mom. Even though she and Dad never allowed any liquor when I was in high school, they were still always good parties.

"I thought she'd be the cool grandmother to my kids too. I thought she'd be in my life for a long time. Now, I don't know if she'll make my wedding."

"I just found her again after thirty years." House said. "I wasn't even with her a year when we first met and only a few months now. Seems like we're not destined for more than that."

They poured more scotch and talked some more about Marianne. Michael recounted how he found out that Harry wasn't really his father.

"I was thirteen. Mom and Dad sat me down and told me everything. They didn't want me to find out on my own and think they were keeping it from me."

"What did you think?"

"I don't know if I was shocked or not. But I do know that I didn't care. My dad was my dad." He avoided looking at House when he said, "I wasn't curious about you. I just didn't care. I liked my life and my family, it was the only one I wanted. We didn't talk about it again until after Dad died. That's when I saw that necklace you gave her and she told me it was from you. Even then, I didn't care. I was too raw from losing my dad, I didn't want another one."

"And now?"

"I can't say it wasn't a shock to find out the doctor that I'd wanted to work with since medical school was actually my father. In some ways, kinda cool too." He glanced at the older man. "You're still an ass, but I guess you're a bearable one."

"Wait, I need a tissue, I think I'm gonna cry." House said.

"So how do you feel about having a son?"

"Well, since I didn't have a choice in the matter…at least you're not in jail. And you did go into medicine, so that's a plus. This would not have worked if you'd been a lawyer or an accountant."

Michael smiled slightly. House smiled too, then downed the rest of his drink.

"Well, I'm going to take a nap." He said, reaching for his cane.

"I'd better go." Michael stood up, then immediately sat down again. "Wow, that stuff's strong."

"You're not going anywhere. Sleep it off on the couch."

"No, that's okay."

"You just got off probation from your DUI. You get caught driving like that, you'll be Bruno's girlfriend in prison. Besides, what will your mother do to me if I let you drive that way? The couch is comfortable. Wilson lived on it for a while."

Michael nodded. He knew House was right, he wasn't in any condition to drive. House handed him a pillow and blanket and he stretched out. He was asleep in a matter of minutes.

House was tired, but the scotch didn't affect him as badly. He took a shower, then went to bed, but lay awake for awhile. He thought about everything that Michael had said. It was the first time they had conversed as father and son or even as friends. At work, they were employee/employer. House barked orders, asked for their ideas, berated them, but never really talked with his team.

At Marianne's they had been sniping at each other ever since Michael found out about their relationship. They didn't communicate, they tolerated and sometimes, they didn't. That was when the fireworks exploded.

But tonight had been different. He had actually had a conversation with his son and learned things about the young man that he didn't know. It was different. It was…nice.

House finally fell asleep, but was awakened a few hours later by the phone ringing. He reached out for it and with a little fear in his voice, said, "Hello?"

"House." Wilson said. "Come back to the hospital."

Oh no, he thought. "Why?"

"She's awake."

"What? When did she…"

"Just a few minutes ago. Cameron's examining her now. I need to call Michael."

"Don't bother, I'll tell him."

"Why, where is he?"

"He's here. We'll be right there."

In no time at all, they were back at the hospital and heading to Marianne's room. Wilson stopped them before they went in.

"She seems fine. A little weak, of course, but brain activity seems normal. No paralysis or anything else. No reason that we can see for the coma."

Michael and House both nodded at his words, then headed into the room. Cameron was standing beside the bed. Marianne looked up when she heard the door and smiled when she saw the two men she loved walk in.

"Mom, thank God. We were worried about you."

"You know," House said, "If you wanted a rest, you could have taken a vacation. A coma is a really a bad getaway."

She reached out her hands and they each took one, smiling at her in return, then they met each other's eyes as well, relief in the glances. The women saw the looks.

"You two were together when Wilson called?" Cameron said.

"Yeah." Michael answered.

"You were?" Marianne asked with trepidation. "What were you doing?"

"We decided to bake cookies together. But he wanted to do oatmeal and I wanted chocolate chip. It ended up in a catfight. But then I pulled his hair and he started crying, so that was the end of it." House said.

Marianne and Cameron rolled their eyes, but Michael chuckled. His mother looked at him in surprise. "You thought that was funny?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"What really happened?"

Michael didn't meet his mother's eyes. "We were both worried about you. We had a drink and we talked."

House averted his gaze too. "What have you been teaching this kid? He never had scotch before."

Marianne studied the two of them some more, then smiled. "I knew there was a reason for me to wake up."


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

It didn't take long for Marianne to recover from the coma. She regained her strength very quickly and within a few days, was released from the hospital. It didn't hurt that she had three doctors to take care of her.

She looked clean for the cancer, but Wilson recommended six months of radiation to be sure that there was nothing remaining. House promised that she would get them.

They started – once again – to rebuild their relationship. They returned to the easy relationship they had started before – spending time together and good sex.

She had told him that she loved him, but he hadn't responded. She knew that emotions were hard for him, but since he was standing by her now when she needed him, she believed that he cared about her. He just couldn't admit it. She assumed that it was only a matter of time before he would be able to tell her how he felt.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House started to slowly build a relationship with Michael. It wasn't easy for either of them. But gradually they started to spend more time together, mostly watching sports or an action movie together. Usually Wilson would join them. Michael seemed to get along with Wilson better than he did with House.

When House told this to Marianne, she laughed. "Everyone gets along better with him than with you. Hell, I love you and I like James better."

House scowled at her words, even though he knew they were true.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Michael and Allison's wedding was approaching. They had booked a private room for fifty at an elegant Princeton restaurant. They applied for their marriage license and contacted a justice of the peace.

Allison's college roommate was to be her maid of honor and Michael's childhood friend was best man. Allison's brother would give her away. All had been asked and had accepted and booked their flights to New Jersey.

Michael breathed a sigh of relief. All he had to do was rent his tux. Everything was done and under control. Wedding all planned. He and House sat down to watch a hockey game and drink beer.

Marianne and Allison looked at them in amazement. There were responses to receive back, seating charts to make, flowers to order, dresses to alter and a million other details to finish.

And of course, the ladies finished it.

Marianne's family was coming to the wedding: her father, her Aunt Lily, and her brothers. Also, Harry's only sister and her husband.

She had tried to convince House to invite his parents, but since he hadn't told them about Michael, he didn't think that would be a good idea.

"Why don't you want to tell them?"

"Leave it be, Meg."

She sighed. He still wouldn't open up about his relationship with his father.

It was with mixed feelings that House waited for the wedding. On the one hand, for the first time in a very long time, he had people who actually wanted him to be with them. And they were people he actually wanted to be with.

His son. More and more he was appreciating the man his son was. He knew that he could take no credit for it. It was Harry Newman who had shaped and molded him into a good person. And it was Harry Newman that would always be 'Dad' to Michael. House knew and accepted that. But as they got to know each other, they found a lot of similarities in their personalities and interests.

Cameron. The woman his son was going to marry and the woman who would probably be the mother of his grandchildren. The thought of grandchildren sent shivers down him. He really didn't want to think about that. But she was a nice girl who had matured a great deal since her idiotic crush on him. And she loved Michael. For all the right reasons. She didn't want to 'fix' him or change him. She loved and accepted him as he was. They laughed a lot together. They would be happy together. Not perfect, but happy.

And of course, there was Marianne. Her love of life was infectious. Of course, his personality contained natural antibodies, but with every passing day, he appreciated her more and more. The amount of patience she displayed was amazing. And of course, he pushed that patience to the limit, sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose just to see how far it would go. She always responded with grace and always seemed to know the difference.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Marianne's father was flying in to Newark. She drove up to meet him. Once she had him in her car, she started asking him about what he'd been doing, his friends, etc.

He answered, but kept watching her. He knew that whenever she talked a lot, she was trying to keep something from him.

"What are you trying to not tell me?" he asked her.

Marianne glanced quickly at him, then back at the road. At seventy-five, Joe Gregory had a full head of white hair. Still strong and striking, he was an active, healthy man who continued to go to work, even though he was semi-retired.

She was uneasy about telling her father about her relationship with House. She knew that he blamed House for her pregnancy, even thought she had told him repeatedly that Greg didn't know about the baby.

"Marianne?" he said when she remained silent.

She sighed. "Well. Dad, I've started dating someone."

"Well, that's good. You're young and beautiful. You should be dating."

She smiled. Only a parent would think you were young at forty-eight. "Actually, you've met him. It's Greg."

"Greg who?"

"Greg House."

Joe stopped and stared at her. "Are you talking about the Greg House who got you pregnant and deserted you to go on with his life?"

"I'm talking about the Greg House who is Michael's father and who didn't know I was pregnant." She told him firmly.

"Right."

"Dad. Look, he's a part of our lives now. Please be nice."

"I was nice to him thirty years ago and look what he did."

"Dad."

That evening, House approached her place with trepidation. How would Joe Gregory feel about seeing him after all these years? Especially after his only daughter gave birth to House's bastard child.

Dinner included Michael and Allison. Joe had not met his grandson's fiancé, so it was a happy meeting.

But when House arrived, the atmosphere grew chilly. Joe nodded his head to House, then turned away without saying anything.

Talk at dinner was mostly about the wedding. Michael and Allison had a lot to share with Joe. Marianne joined in, telling him about her life in Princeton. She tried to include House in the conversation, but every time House started to say something, Joe cut him off and changed topics.

After awhile, House just gave up and sat back, sipping his scotch. If Marianne turned to him, he just shook his head. She sighed and stopped trying.

Eventually, Michael and Allison went back to her place, since Joe was staying in Michael's room.

Left alone with her father, House and Marianne were unsure what to do. Alone in the kitchen, bringing in the dishes from dinner, they talked about it.

"Your father hates me." House said.

"I don't think he 'hates' you."

"No? Well, I wouldn't test that theory. Keep him away from the knives. Wait, he's former military, he can probably kill me with his bare hands."

"He doesn't want to kill you."

"Right. Mouthing 'I'm going to kill you' to me whenever you turn your head is just his fun way of saying hello."

She sighed. "This is ridiculous. Come on, we're going to clear this up once and for all."

She left the kitchen, with House hobbling out behind her.

"Dad," she said, "We need to get this settled right now. Why are you acting this way towards Greg?"

"I'm not acting anyway." Joe said.

"Exactly. You're ignoring him. I've never known you to be so rude."

Joe glared at both of them. "Sorry if I'm not feeling very warm toward the guy that deserted my daughter when she was pregnant with his son."

Marianne, exasperated, said, "Dad, I've told you a million times, he didn't know."

"Bullshit."

"He didn't! I never told him. How would he know?"

"His father told him." Joe said.

"What?" Marianne and House both said.

"When I found out, I went to see his father. I told him."

"Dad, you never said…"

"No, because I didn't want you to know what he said."

"What did he say?" House asked coldly.

"He called my daughter a slut. Told me we wouldn't get any money from them. As if I ever wanted a goddamn penny from him!"

Marianne looked down at the floor, speechless, unable to believe what he was saying. If John House had known about the baby, had he told Greg?

House spoke up. "He never told me."

"BULLSHIT! He told me how the two of you talked about Marianne and how easy she was. You laughed about her together."

Marianne's head quickly shot up and she said, "No, that's not right. He lied to you, Dad."

"Yeah, you'd like to believe that, honey."

"No. Greg and his father never laughed together over anything. Not now, not then."

Joe's look said he didn't believe her.

"It's true Dad. They're not like you and I. Greg has never gotten along with his father."

House added quietly. "He never told me. If he had, I can guarantee, I would have done something about it."

Joe looked at both of their faces and saw the honesty in them. He lifted his shoulders and sighed.

"I've held onto a lot of hatred towards you for the last thirty years. I don't know what to think now."

Marianne went to him and put her arms around him. "Just let it go, Dad. It's a new beginning – for all of us. We're all different people and we're all adjusting to this."

Joe hugged her, then turned to House. He extended his hand.

"I'm sorry. I really thought…"

House shook his hand. "It's okay. I'd probably think the same. Everybody lies. Why should you believe me? Most fathers would tell their sons. Except mine."


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Joe went upstairs to go to bed. Marianne put her arms around House and held him tight.

"Are you okay?" She asked him.

"Sure, why shouldn't I be? I just found out my father has known for thirty years that I had a kid and never bothered to tell me. Oh, and he told my girlfriend's father that she was a slut, so the man's hated me for all that time. This is the best day ever!"

'Are you going to talk to your father about it?"

"Why? We've never talked about anything else. Why would we talk about this?"

"Don't you intend to tell them about Michael? Ever?"

House sighed. "I don't know. I was thinking about it. But now, well, he doesn't deserve a grandson. Not after what he did."

"What about your mom?"

"I know. That's the kicker. She's always wanted a grandchild. She'd go crazy if she found out. If there was a way I could tell her and not him. Unfortunately they're a matched set."

"I can't imagine having that kind of relationship with my dad. Maybe if you did talk to him. Tell him how much it hurt you that he kept that from you, maybe the two of you could…"

"Meg, you have no idea. There's way too much done and said between us."

"You've never told me what."

"I've never told anyone. And you don't want to know. Believe me."

The look on his face told her not to pursue it.

She hugged him and said, "Well, this was an exhausting day. I don't know about you, but I'm ready for bed."

"Me too." He said, following her as she headed to the bedroom.

She started to get ready for bed and he came up behind her and started nuzzling her neck.

"Greg!" she said.

"What?"

"We can do this now."

"Why not?"

"My dad is here."

He looked around. "In the room? Where? Is he hiding under the bed."

"He's in the house."

"So?"

"He'll KNOW."

"We're sharing the same bedroom. I think he has a pretty good idea what's going on."

"Yes, but I can't actually DO it while he's in the house."

"He's gonna think we're doing it anyway."

"Yes, but…"

"So if he thinks we are, we might as well."

"I just wouldn't be comfortable doing it while he's here." Marianne pleaded

"Wait, he's gonna be here for like ten days, right?"

"Yes."

"No. There's no way that I'm not having sex with you for ten days."

"Please, Greg…"

He opened the closet and pulled out her overnight bag. He shoved it into her hands, saying, "Here. Start packing."

"What? Why?"

"We're going to my place. Then you won't have to be afraid that daddy will find out that his princess is a nympho."

"I'm not a nympho and I'm not going anywhere." She threw the case down. "I can't just leave the house and leave him here alone.'

"He's a grown man! He lives alone in Maine."

"Connecticut. And it's not the same."

"Whatever. And it is."

"Greg, I'm not discussing this anymore. I'm staying right here and I'm not having sex with you. If you want to go home, that's up to you. But I am going to bed. To sleep."

She went into her bathroom. He sat down on the loveseat and turned on the TV. She came out a few minutes later, changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed. He sat there for a while, debating what to do. Then he had an idea.

He waited until he could hear her slow and steady breathing telling him that she was asleep. He went to the bathroom, got himself ready for bed and removed his clothes. Naked, he returned to the bedroom and crawled into bed. He touched her lightly, but she didn't stir. Perfect.

She was lying on her side, with her back towards him. He moved in close to her and slowly reached out his hand. He snaked it under her nightgown and up her leg. Making sure he moved slowly and carefully, he very lightly started to caress her. He continued to move his hand up until he reached the apex between her legs. He kept his touches light as he caressed her there. She stirred a bit, but didn't waken as she moved onto her back.

He smiled with glee. Exactly what he wanted. He crawled around until he was in position, then he replaced his fingers with his tongue. He continued to keep his touches light, even though it was now his tongue doing the work.

Marianne was having a lovely dream. She was lying in a meadow and soft breezes were caressing her. Then she felt a little brook lapping at her. Slowly she started to awaken and realize that it wasn't a dream, but the wide awake sensations were even better. House was gently caressing her with his tongue. She started to moan and he realized that she was awake, so he started to thrust his tongue in and out of her.

"Oh, oh, god!" she cried, "That's so good."

Suddenly, he stopped. She lifted her head. "Wha – what are you doing?"

"I'm so sorry." He said, sitting up.

"Why? Why are you sorry?"

"You didn't want to have sex tonight. I'm sorry. I'll stop."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's a dirty trick, Greg. You just get on down there and finish what you started right now!"

"But what about your father?"

"He can find his own partner."

He gave her an evil grin, then did as she asked. It didn't take long before she was moaning once again and he soon had her over the edge. He moved up her body and held her as she rode out the orgasm. Then he whispered in her ear.

"On your knees, Meg."

She complied and within seconds was kneeling on the bed, with him behind her. His ministrations to her had already made him hard, so he was able to immediately push into her. She moaned again when she felt his entrance.

With his hands on her hips, he started moving his cock in and out. She was bucking with every thrust. She was so hot and wet and he was so ready. Within minutes, he let go with a massive orgasm. They collapsed on the bed afterwards.

"Well," he said, once he could speak again. "Guess your father knows what's going on now."

"You're evil."

"You just found that out?"


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

As far as House was concerned, the only good thing about weddings was the food and drink. But all the dressing up, the hugging and kissing, the sentimentality, all of that, was bull.

He knew it would be no use trying to convince Marianne to ditch the whole thing. Or to avoid it himself. She wanted to be there and she wanted him with her. If he ever expected to have sex with her again, he knew he had to be there.

Michael and Allison's wedding was full of sentimental crap. It was raining, but instead of being upset, Marianne just spouted things like, "It's good luck if it rains."

Yeah, House thought, getting pneumonia on your wedding day is good luck.

He refused to wear a tux. He relented enough to put on his navy blue suit and a light blue shirt. Marianne bought him a new tie, striped, in shades of blue and gray that made his eyes gleam. She thought he looked really handsome and she told him so. He just grunted.

But he had to admit that Marianne looked unbelievably beautiful. Cameron had chosen shades of jewel tones for her color scheme. The tables had mixed bouquets of flowers in ruby reds, sapphire blues, amber oranges and emerald greens. The tablecloths were each one of those colors.

Marianne had selected a sapphire blue silk dress. The round neckline draped slightly, just hinting at the curve of her breast. It had a cap sleeve and was fitted snugly to her body until it passed her hips, then it flared out. With sapphire earrings and necklace to complete the look, she was appropriately the mother of the groom, yet stunning.

Allison wore a strapless white gown with a slight train. The fact that there was no ornamentation on it only emphasized the simple beauty of the dress and the bride. Her hair was pulled back into a chignon with a spray of baby's breath adorning it. Her bouquet had some of the jewel tone flowers mixed in with the white roses. She wore a necklace with stones of sapphire, emerald, topaz and ruby.

Her maid of honor wore a ruby red dress, also very simple in style and carried a bouquet with the same mixed colors of flowers.

Michael, his best man and Allison's brother wore simple black tuxedos. Michael's tie and boutonniere were white. His best man's were red to match the maid of honor and her brother's were amber.

Marianne forced House to put a blue flower in his lapel. He grumbled and rolled his eyes, but ultimately agreed.

The entire wedding took place at the restaurant. Allison didn't believe in God. Michael did, but had long ago fallen away from the Catholic traditions of his mother and her family. They decided to have a justice of the peace marry them.

The guests, composed of Michael's family and the couple's friends from the hospital, made a circle around the bride and groom as they exchanged their vows. It was a simple ceremony and after vows and rings were exchanged, the justice of the peace introduced "Dr. and Dr. Newman." The guests applauded and – the best part as far as House was concerned – moved immediately to the bar.

After a cocktail hour with trays of hors d'oeuvres passed around, the guests took seats for a lovely dinner that was their choice of chicken cordon bleu, stuffed flounder, prime rib or a vegetable lasagna (for the vegetarian guests). House scarfed down his prime rib and half of Marianne's chicken.

They were seated with Joe Gregory, Aunt Lily, and Harry's sister and her husband. The bride and groom were seated with their attendants and Allison's brother was at the table with Marianne's brothers and their significant others.

Sandy and her boyfriend Allejandro (who did indeed look like Antonio Banderas) were next to Wilson and his date Cuddy (and, boy, was House planning on torturing him about that!). The rest of the tables were filled with friends from the hospital, college or childhood. All in all, there were about fifty people present.

Despite the simplicity of their ceremony, Michael and Allison insisted on the traditions that most people had for weddings.

The best man made a toast to the couple. He had known Michael since elementary school and since both men had no siblings, they had bonded early and strong. His friend lived in Chicago now, but the two still kept in touch through email and phone calls. He recounted escapades they'd shared and had everyone laughing.

House wasn't surprised that Michael had such a good friend for so long. Although they had many things in common, Michael was much more open than he himself was. He had as much of Marianne's personality as he did his own.

The maid of honor made one as well. A cute little blonde, she recalled Allison's college days, her first marriage to the guy dying of cancer and the sadness that followed. But then she asked everyone to rejoice for her friend finding true love again with Michael.

Sentimental crap, House thought.

They danced a first dance to their special song. They shone on the dance floor. Allison danced with her brother, then Michael danced with Marianne. After that, the guests were invited to join in. Marianne glanced at House, but he kept his head down. She knew he would be uncomfortable dancing with his leg, though she knew he could manage it. But she wasn't going to force him.

Allison threw her bouquet to the single women. There were a lot of them present. She made sure to pull Marianne out on the floor as well. She laughed and joined in, but didn't try too hard to catch it. Marianne's niece (the one from Penn State) was the happy recipient.

But when Michael threw the bride's garter to the single men, House refused to join in. Marianne knew better than to push him, though Wilson certainly tried. The best man caught it.

They cut the wedding cake and fed it to each other. House was disappointed that they didn't try to smash it in each other's faces as he'd seen at other weddings. Feeding it sweetly to each other was boring.

Everyone laughed and danced and had a wonderful time. House kept drinking.

The wedding was about two-thirds over when Michael asked the DJ for the microphone. With Allison by his side, he spoke to the assembled guests.

"Allison and I want to thank everyone who helped us get to this day. To all of our friends and family who came here to join us on this happy occasion and for helping to make it so perfect. We especially want to thank my mother who did most of the planning for this. Two busy doctors could never have done it without her. I want to add a special thanks to her for always being there for me. I love you Mom."

Marianne was smiling at him, as a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. House rolled his eyes.

Michael mentioned a few other people, then he said, "And I'd also like to thank Gregory House. It was because I wanted so much to work for him that I accepted a position at Princeton Plainsboro and met this amazing woman." He smiled at Allison and squeezed her hand. "I also want to thank him for being a part of my life before I ever knew it. Some of you know that Harry Newman was my adopted father. I'd like you all to know now that my biological father is Greg House. And although it's been a rocky road, I want you to know that I am proud to be his son."

Marianne was smiling. It pleased her so much that Michael publicly accepted his father. She turned to look at House, but did not see the same joy on his face.

House was stunned. He couldn't believe Michael had said that in front of all of these people, most of them employees at PPTH. It would be all over the hospital by tomorrow. He absolutely hated people to know his personal business.

He spent the rest of the wedding at the bar. By the time the celebration wound down, he was more than slightly drunk. Marianne drove them home. He removed his clothes and collapsed into bed without saying a word.

_Reviews make me happy and make me want to post faster!_


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

He woke up in the middle of the night with his head pounding and his leg throbbing. He reached out to the night table, but his bottle of pills wasn't there. He'd been too drunk and tired before he went to bed to take them out. He crawled from the bed, found his suit jacket and the orange bottle in the pocket.

He dry swallowed two of them, but his throat was dry from the aftermath of the alcohol, so he decided to get some water.

When he returned from the bathroom and climbed back into bed, Marianne turned over and put her hand on his arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just needed some water and my pills."

He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. She knew he was awake and thinking about something.

"What's wrong, Greg?"

"Nothing."

She propped herself up on her elbow and looked at him.

"Something is bothering you. Please tell me."

House lay there for awhile, not sure whether to speak or not. Finally, he said, "I can't believe he said that in front of all those people."

Marianne was confused. "Who?"

"Michael. With his little announcement."

"You're upset because Michael told his friends that you're his father?"

"Not just his friends. People from work too. Now the whole hospital will know."

"So?"

"So? Do you really want everyone to know our business?"

"Are you ashamed that Michael is your son?"

"Of course not."

"Well, Michael isn't ashamed that you're his father either. So what does it matter if people know?"

"It's none of their business!"

"This is silly, Greg. You're his father, he's your son. If you're not ashamed of that, what does it matter if people know it?"

He couldn't believe that she didn't understand. And that she didn't seem to mind. It was her life too that would be on display. He tried to tell her that, ranting and raving about privacy and things that strangers shouldn't know.

She was silent during his tirade and when he finally stopped, she just stared at him for a few minutes.

Finally, she said, "What did your father do to you to make you unable to deal with love?"

He exploded. "This has nothing to do with my father! This is about putting my personal business out there for everyone to find out!"

"It has everything to do with your father. Or at least your inability to deal with love and real honest emotion, which I can only assume is a result of the relationship with your father. Michael was feeling full of love and pride for you and he thought it would be nice to show you and the world by announcing it at his wedding. Michael knows how to express his feelings."

"Michael knows how to behave like an idiot."

"Because he loves you?"

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why does he love me?"

"Because you're his father!"

"Bullshit! He's known me less than a year. For most of that time, he hasn't liked me very much. I haven't even been nice to him. All of sudden, when he's feeling all sentimental because he just married the queen of the warm and fuzzies, he decides that he loves me? That he's proud to be my son? Bullshit!"

"Greg, aren't you proud to be his father?"

"I have no right to be! I didn't raise him. Other than providing some DNA, I did nothing to make him who he is. I can't take credit for it. I can't stand around and say, 'that's my son.' It is, but it's not my doing."

Marianne sighed. "That's true, I know. And so does Michael. And he will never forget Harry or stop loving him or thinking of him as his dad. But he has come to know you and accept you. And you may not have raised him, but the DNA you gave him did help him become who he is today. My family are all laborers, craftsmen. Lots of mechanics, carpenters, plumbers. Harry made some smart real estate deals, but he was a construction guy mainly. You know how I did in school.

"Michael is brilliant, always was. He decided early on to become a doctor and he was totally focused on that goal. He wouldn't listen to anyone telling him he couldn't do it. He's smart, stubborn, determined. He got all of that from you."

House was silent. He cared about Michael, liked him even, but didn't think it was right to take credit for the man he'd become. And he didn't want the world thinking he was.

Also, he knew nothing of fatherly pride or filial devotion, and he was a bit afraid to tread those waters, so this was dangerous territory for him.

He laid back and thought for awhile. Marianne didn't speak and he thought she'd gone back to sleep, when she spoke quietly:

"Are you ever going to tell me about your father?"

"Someday." He said, and thought, sure, when the sun crashes into the moon and the oceans cover the earth.


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

A few weeks earlier House had finally hired a third fellow for his team. He had resisted, but when Michael and Allison had pointed out that they would be gone for two weeks on their honeymoon and he would be alone, he had relented.

Of course, he had made them do all the screening and initial interviews. He promised to talk to three candidates only. They had to schedule the best three to meet with him. They spent hours pouring over resumes and more time doing phone interviews. Then they met with about fifteen doctors. After more time and anguish, they narrowed it down to the three that they thought were the best. They scheduled appointments for them with House.

Of course, he spoke to each of the candidates for approximately five minutes and then told them that none of them were any good and to start over. Allison looked pained and anticipated going through the resumes yet again, when Michael spoke up.

"No."

"What?" House barked.

"I said no. First of all, hiring staff is your job. Allison and I helped you out by doing all the preliminary work for you. All you had to do was talk to three – three! – people. And that would entail more than saying, 'hello, you're an idiot, goodbye.' And you couldn't even handle that. We're going on our honeymoon. I already spoke to Dr. Cuddy and she said that we are entitled to the time. So even if there's a patient, you can't make us stay."

"I could fire you." House told him.

"You could. That won't really change anything. You'll still have no staff and we'll still be on our honeymoon. We'll find jobs when we get back. And we won't starve in the meantime. I have a trust fund."

House narrowed his eyes at the young man, but he was secretly impressed at the way he stood his ground.

"So," Michael continued, "You can not hire someone and work alone while we're away. Or, you can re-interview those three doctors that we sent to you and choose one. But we are not starting over. And we are taking our honeymoon. Come on, Allison, let's go have lunch."

He walked out of the office, Allison following him. She gave House a triumphant smile as she left.

Once they were gone, House smiled too and picked up the telephone to call the one candidate that hadn't seemed like an idiot.

One week later, Dr. Stefani Del Toro, a young Phillipino woman, joined the team.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Monday after the wedding, House walked slowly into the hospital. He wasn't sure how quickly the news about his relationship with Michael would spread, but he was sure that it would. Del Toro greeted him in her usual calm and friendly manner, but he just ignored her. She sighed and continued with her work. She was already used to her new boss.

House almost avoided the cafeteria, but Wilson's promise to buy lunch convinced him to go. His eyes darted around the room, waiting for some sign that people were whispering about him. To his surprise, no one seemed to be. Most people were ignoring him as they usually did. The ones who didn't were the ones that had to meet his eyes and did so with animosity in theirs. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Wilson noticed his friend's unusual interest in his surroundings, specifically the people.

"What's wrong?"

"Why aren't they looking at me?"

Wilson eyes him. "Okay, is this like a reverse paranoia? You don't think people are looking at you? You want them to?"

"Of course I don't want them to!"

"Well, then, you should be happy they're not."

"But they should be. Why aren't they?"

"Why should they be?"

House sighed in frustration. "Because of Michael? The wedding?"

Wilson was still confused. "They should be looking at you because Michael got married?"

"Not because he got married, you idiot! Because of what he said!"

"What he said…oh, you mean about you."

House gave him a look that said, finally, you got it.

"House, most people in this hospital …hate you. Those that don't, really don't care much about your private life. Between those two, there is very little interest in what you did thirty years ago. However, people do like Michael. So those people might feel sorry for him. But since he's not here for them to pity, there's not much else for them to do.

"Someday, it may become clear to you that the world in general – and this hospital in particular – does not revolve around you."

House glared at him.

Wilson sat back in his chair and stared at his friend. House seemed uneasy. The younger doctor thought about what could be bothering his friend today. The wedding had been very nice and Michael's announcement had added a warm touch to the whole affair. But of course, House wouldn't think of it that way.

"So I take it you weren't happy with Michael's announcement."

"Idiot!"

"Him or me?"

"Why would he tell the world that?"

"Because he's accepted the fact that you're his father, he cares about you, he's proud to be your son? Pick one."

"You sound just like Marianne."

Wilson smiled. "So I take it she doesn't agree with you?"

"She thinks it's all wonderful."

"And you don't?"

"Why does he care about me? What have I done to improve his life? What reason does he have to love me or even like me?"

"Well, I don't know about liking you – I don't think he does. Then again not many people do. But he can love you. You are his father."

"I'm not! Harry Newman was his father. I didn't do a damned thing for him."

Wilson felt a wave of sadness hit him. He understood this man better than almost anyone. And he could sense where this was heading.

"House, you can be loved. By Michael, by Marianne. By a lot of people. All you have to do is let them."

The look on House's face broke Wilson's heart. He had a bad feeling about all of this.


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Three weeks after Michael and Allison's wedding, Marianne and House headed to New York for the weekend. The last book that she had illustrated was being published and there was a reception for it. It was always a good idea for her to go, Sandy had told her.

So they decided to make a weekend of it. They took the train up late Friday afternoon and took a taxi from Grand Central Station to her townhouse.

The house was obviously old, but very well-tended. Marianne told House that Harry had bought it as part of his business, buying dilapidated buildings, fixing them up and selling them. But he had fallen in love with the charming old house and had decided to make it his home.

When he married Marianne, she and Michael had moved into it with him and the boy had been raised here. She inherited it when he died. Even though she had moved to Princeton with Michael, she had kept the house in case either of them wanted to go up to the city for any reason.

House was impressed with the simple brownstone. He was also amazed at how clean it was since she hadn't been living there for almost a year.

"I have a cleaning woman come in once a week to keep it up. I called her early this week and told her to air it out and put fresh sheets on the bed."

"Well," he said, "We'd better go check to see if she did."

"Greg, I have to get ready for the reception tonight."

"There's always time for sex."

"Not tonight there isn't."

The look on his face was not a happy one.

"Relax for awhile. There's a bar in that cabinet. Have a drink, watch some TV. I have a few phone calls to make, then I have to get ready. But you can take your time."

She kissed him on the cheek and went upstairs. He glowered after her, and then made his way to the cabinet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House was waiting in the living room for Marianne to come downstairs. He understood the importance of the evening, but decided on a black shirt, black sport coat, and black slacks, no tie. He thought it showed New York style. But he felt decidedly underdressed when he saw Marianne.

She wore a black dress, sleeveless, with a V in the front and back that dipped provocatively low. It was form fitting until it skimmed her calves, then it flared out. It was silk, with tiny black jet beads trimming the neckline and hem.

She had dried her hair into a sleek bob and added small diamond earrings. Her make-up was more dramatic than he had ever seen it.

He let out a breath, amazed at how stylish and sexy she looked. She smiled when she saw his reaction. She took his arm and said, "Shall we go?"

They went outside and, after a slight wait, found a taxi.

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the reception. It was held in a ballroom of one of New York's glittering hotels. The room was filled with glittering New York people as well.

Because she was watching for her, Sandy came over as soon as they arrived.

"Good, you're here." She said, hugging Marianne and eyeing House. Wow, she thought, even better than she remembered. "How's the good doctor this evening?"

"Thirsty. Where's the booze?"

Sandy smiled at him. "Bar's over that way. But Marianne, I need you with me, NOW. The publisher has been asking for you."

Marianne knew House would not only be bored if he accompanied her to meet the publisher, but he might even say something inappropriate.

She linked her arm in his. "Honey, I have to meet and greet a lot of people that you won't want to hang with. Why don't you go find a chair by the bar, have some of those little hors d'oeuvres they're passing around and I'll join you later."

"Sounds good to me."

He watched Marianne and Sandy head off to meet their 'people'. He limped slowly towards the bar area and ordered a scotch. There were a few high stools set up near the bar and he was able to snag one. He saw a waitress pass and got some snacks. He was munching on them and sipping his drink in no time.

Some time later, two women approached the bar. One was blonde and the other a redhead. They ordered and while they waited, they continued the conversation they were having.

"Did you see Marianne Newman?" Redhead asked.

"Is she here?" Blonde queried. "I haven't seen her in almost a year. Heard she moved."

"She did, somewhere in New Jersey, if you can believe it." They both laughed. "But she did this book, so I guess that's why she came."

"And what about Richard? He's here, right? Has he seen her?"

"He's seen her. He made a beeline for her as soon as he caught sight of her."

"Do you think they'll get back together?" Blonde asked

"They will if Richard has anything to say about it. Rhonda said she had dinner with him last month and all he could do was talk about Marianne." Redhead told her.

"I'd heard they were engaged."

"So did I. At least, she had a rock on her finger. But then she didn't and she left the city."

"But now that she's back…"

"Exactly. Oh, my god, there's Blake!"

"Oh my God!"

Both women left to pursue 'Blake'. House took another sip of his drink and lost himself in thought. Then he put the glass down and moved away from the bar. He surveyed the room and eventually saw Marianne. She was talking with a tall, distinguished looking man. House made his way towards them.


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Richard Huntington was old New York money. His family had been in publishing for over one hundred years, but that wasn't where their money came from. No one knew where it came from. It just was.

Along with the money, he had inherited his family's good looks. He was tall, well-built and, at fifty-six, still had a full head of hair, mostly black but with an attractive edge of gray at the temples.

Richard had followed his family's wishes most of his life. He went into the family business and married the daughter of a family friend (also old money). They had produced two children, a boy and a girl. He was a well-known figure in society circles and in philanthropy as well.

When he and his wife divorced, that was fine too. Many in their circle did. They remained cordial to each other, as they still moved in the same circles. He had a fashionable apartment on Central Park, a summer 'cottage' in the Hamptons and also a private residence on the family estate in Westchester.

The first time he broke with tradition was his interest in Marianne Newman. He had known Harry; most of the wealthy in New York did. Harry helped many of them become wealthier and himself as well. But of course, Harry and Marianne were not a part of their circles.

Still, Richard was entranced with her. After Harry died, and after he got his divorce, he asked her out. But it took two years before they actually went out. And then, it was two more years before they went out again. Her mother was dying of cancer and she was occupied with that.

About eighteen months earlier, they had begun dating. She was the most fascinating woman he had ever met. She was passionate, but sweet; beautiful, but natural; smart, but down to earth. She was a contradiction and different from any other woman he knew.

They'd been dating for six months when she finally agreed to sleep with him. Two months later he asked her to marry him. He gave her a huge engagement ring and more or less forced it onto her finger. Three days later she returned it to him and a few weeks later, she told him she was moving to Princeton.

He called her every few weeks and tried to get her to invite him down, but she never did. Then she indicated that she was seeing someone there. He was devastated, but he refused to give up. He assumed he was more sophisticated than anyone she could meet in New Jersey. All he had to do was bide his time.

Marianne greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a smile. She was alone, which pleased Richard. They chatted for a while, but then he saw she seemed distracted as she looked at something behind him. He turned and saw a man with a cane heading right towards them. When he turned back to Marianne, he saw she was smiling. She went to the man and linked her arm in his. The man eyed Richard suspiciously.

"Richard," Marianne said, "This is Dr. Gregory House. Greg, this is Richard Huntington, an old friend.

The two men assessed the other's worth in the space of the five seconds before they acknowledged Marianne's introduction and greeted each other cautiously.

"Dr. House." Richard said. "Is that MD or PhD?"

"MD." Marianne said before House could. "Greg is Michael's boss."

"Oh, really?" Richard said, feigning interest. How could he get rid of this guy?

"But Marianne and I know each other from a long time ago. Like thirty years ago." House told him.

"Greg, Richard doesn't want to know our history."

"Sure he does. Right, Richard? Don't you want to know that Michael is my son?"

Richard stared at him. Then he turned to Marianne, and staying as calm as he possibly could, he asked her, "Is that true?"

She smiled nervously. "Yes, it is. It was an unbelievable coincidence meeting Greg again after all of those years."

Richard studied the two of them. The tall blue-eyed man with his arm draped possessively around Marianne's shoulder. The beautiful woman beside him, who seemed nervous, but whose eyes still shone when she looked at the man. And this guy was Michael's father?

"Well, then," Richard said. "Congratulations on finding each other again. Best of luck to the two of you."

He walked away quickly. Marianne glared at House. "Why did you do that?"

"What? What did I do?"

"Telling him about Michael like that!"

"I'm just proud that Michael is my son. I want the world to know."

"You weren't that proud a few weeks ago when Michael announced it."

"And you weren't this annoyed when it wasn't your friends."

"It's not the same thing."

"Yes, it is."

"Greg, there is no need to be so childish. Richard is an old friend and it wasn't necessary to stake your claim."

House tapped his cane on the floor a few times before saying, "Rumor has it that you two were engaged."

"We weren't engaged."

"He gave you a diamond."

"Which I gave right back to him. Where did you hear all this?"

"Around."

"We dated, he's very nice. I like him a lot. He wanted to marry me. I considered it. But then I realized that I couldn't do that again."

"Do what?"

"Marry someone just because I liked him or wanted security for myself or Michael. I don't need security now, neither does Michael. And I want passion. I want love. If I can't have that, then I don't want a relationship at all."

He was silent at her words. She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. Then she kissed him lightly. "Do you want to stay with me? I can't promise it will be interesting, I still have to talk to authors and publishers."

"No, I'm okay. I'll be at the bar when you're done.' He limped away.

Marianne relaxed. As much as she loved Greg, she didn't really need him spilling out her personal business to these people. These were the type of people who lived off gossip. She preferred not to be the fodder of theirs. She spent the rest of the evening talking to friends, acquaintances, colleagues, business contacts and anyone else that Sandy decreed she should talk with.

House spent the rest of the evening in an upholstered chair where a waitress kept his glass filled with scotch. Actually, though, he mostly sipped it. He was busy thinking about all that had happened that evening and before it. And his thoughts were getting darker by the minute.


	52. Chapter 52

**If you guys are really nice and give me LOTS of reviews today, I might give you another chapter later today or tonight. I know I'll get two - from my loyal reviewers. But the rest of you out there reading? Come on, just say hi, I like it, I hate it, SOMETHING!**

Chapter 52

They arrived back at Marianne's townhouse after midnight. Marianne went straight to her bedroom and took off her shoes and stockings. House followed slowly behind her.

"I love to get dressed up, but I also love to get un-dressed up. Can you get my zipper?" she said as she turned her back to him.

He pulled down the zipper, then stepped back. She turned to look at him. Normally, he would take that opportunity to kiss the back of her neck or cop a feel. He had done that earlier when he had pulled the zipper up.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah. I think I ate something that didn't agree with me."

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. Do you want me to get you something? An antacid? I could make some chamomile tea."

'It's okay. I just need to get some sleep."

"Sure."

By the time Marianne climbed into bed, House was already on his side, with his back to her. She touched him lightly.

"Are you asleep?"

"If I was, I wouldn't be now."

She smiled. "Sorry. I just wanted to remind you that I have to meet with Sandy tomorrow morning, early to sign some contracts. I won't wake you, but I might not be back before you get up."

"Okay."

"You sure you're alright."

"Yeah."

"Okay, good night."

He didn't answer and she went to sleep.

The next morning, Marianne made coffee before she left for her meeting. She was gone for a little over two hours, but it still wasn't quite ten when she returned. She thought he'd still be in bed and if he was feeling better, maybe she'd join him.

He wasn't.

She found him in the living room with his bag packed and his coat on. He was writing something when she entered.

"What's up?"

"I, uh, have to get back to Princeton."

"Do you have a case?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, that's too bad. Okay, it'll only take me a few minutes to pack."

"No." he said quickly, then added, "I mean, you should stay. You've made plans with your friends and all. I'll be busy. You stay."

She looked at him, trying to read his expression. There was something he wasn't saying. But she knew he wouldn't say it if she pressed him. It would come in his own time.

"Okay, I'll stay. Maybe I'll stay until Monday, instead of tomorrow, since I don't have to get back like you did."

"Good idea."

She went to him, hugged him and kissed him on the lips. He pulled back almost immediately.

"I'll call you when I get back." She said.

"I'll probably be busy with the case, so I won't have time to talk."

"Well, whenever."

He nodded and left.

She watched him leave, wondering what the hell had happened there?


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter 53

When she returned home on Monday evening, she called him at home and when he didn't answer, she left a message on his machine.

"Hi, it's me. Just wanted to let you know that I'm home. I was going to call your cell, but I didn't want to bother you while you're working. So, when you get home, give me a call. Or come over. Talk to you soon."

House sat alone in his apartment, listening to the message.

She called him again on Tuesday, then also on Wednesday, adding at the end of her message, "call me – I just want to make sure you're okay."

On Thursday evening, Michael stopped by. Marianne was surprised to see him.

"How's your case?" she asked him.

"Case? We don't have a case. Haven't had one in over a week."

She looked confused. "But you called Greg on Saturday. He came back here early because of your case."

"Mom, there's no case. We've been working in the clinic all week. House has been holed up in his office. Don't know what he's been doing. All I know is that he's been crabbier than usual, if that's possible."

Marianne couldn't believe it. Why would Greg lie to her? He had to know she would find out. Unless, he just didn't care if she did.

"Oh." She said. "I must have misunderstood him then."

Michael gave her an odd look. He knew that wasn't the truth, but he also knew by the look on her face not to pursue it – now.

Once he left, Marianne tried to figure out what had happened. He'd seemed happy on the way to New York – playful and sexy too. He hadn't wanted to go to the party, but he hadn't seemed miserable during it. After they came home, something had changed. He'd been ill, he'd said. She'd believed him and hadn't thought much about it. But had he really been ill or had it been something else? Was it something to do with meeting Richard?

She tried calling him on his cell, but got voice mail again. She left a message for him to call her. By the following Tuesday when she didn't hear from him, she was a little worried and a lot pissed. If he was mad at her, fine, he just needed to tell her why and they could work it out. But the silent treatment was unacceptable.

House was playing the piano. It wasn't helping his mood, but he had to do something. Drinking every night wasn't doing the trick. When he heard the knock on his door, he had a feeling he knew who it was. He stopped playing, hoping she would think he wasn't there and go away, but she had heard the music.

"Greg, I know you're there. Open the door please."

He sighed, then made his way to the door and opened it.

She stepped inside, looked him up and down and said, in a flat voice, "Oh, good, you're not dead."

He avoided looking at her and hobbled back into the room. She followed him and waited, but he didn't speak.

"Because," she began. "I was thinking you had to be. Why else would you ignore me for the past week. And don't you dare give me that bullshit about having a case!"

"I didn't have a case."

"I know."

He was silent again.

"Greg." She said, "Tell me what's the matter. Did I do something wrong? Did something happen at the party that you didn't tell me about?"

He still didn't speak.

"Goddamn it, talk to me! How can I fix it if you won't tell me what's wrong?"

"There's nothing to fix, nothing wrong." He said finally. "I've just realized that it's not going to work out."

"What's not – what are you talking about?"

"This. Us. It's not working."

"It's not? But we've been happy, we've had fun."

"The sex was fun. That's about it."

She stared at him in amazement. "You can't mean… Greg, I love you!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do! I've loved you for thirty years."

"No you haven't. You've convinced yourself that you love me. It's the only way that you can live with yourself."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You slept with me when you were seventeen. You had my son. You had to believe that I was your great love. That would make it pure and right. If you didn't love me, then you were just easy."

She couldn't believe what he was saying. "But with the cancer, when we got back together, you…"

"I felt sorry for you. You had cancer, for god's sake. I lied."

She just stared at him. The tears were coming up, but she refused to cry in front of him.

"Did you love me at all? Ever?"

"No."

"Not in high school?"

"I was infatuated. And I wanted to get laid."

"But I said no and you still went out with me."

"It worked, didn't it?"

She knew if she stayed there much longer, she would fall apart, but she had to ask one more thing.

"Was it all only about the sex?"

"Yes."

She turned and rushed out of the apartment as quickly as she could.

When he heard the door slam behind her, he collapsed onto the sofa and put his head in his hands.


	54. Chapter 54

**Since my three loyal reviewers were quick with their comments, I decided to give you guys a bonus tonight -- an extra chapter! All of you other readers out there, come on, throw me a bone! Let me know even if you hate it.**

Chapter 54

Michael came home to find his mother packing things into boxes.

"Mom? What's up?"

With as much of a smile as she could muster, she told him. "I'm moving back to New York."

"Why?"

"Lots of reasons. You have a new wife and you don't need a meddling mother around."

"You're not meddling."

"Plus, I know the two of you can't wait to move into this room."

"That doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. This is your house. Besides, it's just time. This was good for me. I needed to get away from the city for awhile. But now I need to go back. I missed it."

"What about House?"

"What about him?"

"I thought you two were…"

"We were, for awhile. And it was so nice to see him again. But we've both changed too much. It's not going to work between us."

He looked at her with a strange expression. It was hard because his eyes were so like Greg's. And the look he gave her said he didn't really believe her. The same sort of look that Greg had.

She swallowed her tears and smiled at him. "He's your father and I'm really happy you got to know him. I hope you two can continue to build your relationship. It's important. But I'm ready to move on."

He hugged her. "If this is what you want, Mom, that's fine."

She closed her eyes tightly and held on to him. "This is what I want."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I don't believe her." Michael told Wilson the next day.

"Why not?" Wilson asked him. He had his own idea, but he wanted to hear what Michael thought.

"She was sleeping with him. Since Dad died, she slept with two other men. Two men in ten years. What does that tell you?"

"She's particular. She won't sleep with just anyone."

"She won't sleep with anyone she's not in love with. Or least cares about a lot. I don't believe she slept with him for old times sakes or something. She was in love with him when she was sleeping with him. I don't think she stopped loving him."

Wilson sighed, then said, "Well, it wouldn't be the first time he's pushed away a woman he loved."

"Like Allison?" Michael asked cautiously.

"No, they never got that far. It was one disastrous date. I'm talking about Stacey."

Michael chimed in. "Right, he lived with her for five years, they broke up after his infarction. She gave the order to remove the dead muscle. I know all that. It's not the same. Mom didn't cripple him."

"No, what you don't know is that she came back. She got married and her husband was sick. House treated him and she had to work here for a while. They got close again, but just when they got to the point of her leaving her husband, he broke it off. He told her it wouldn't work, he couldn't make her happy, and he didn't love her. He convinced himself that he didn't love her. He was a mess for months afterward."

"You think that's what he did to Mom?"

Wilson nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"Why? Why would he do that? He seemed to really care about her. He told me he did, well, implied that he did."

"He did, he does. I'm sure of it. He's in love with her."

"Then why?"

"Because he doesn't know how to be happy. Anytime he starts to be, he has to stop it. He's afraid he'll lose who he is if he's not miserable."

"So he has to make Mom and everyone else miserable?"

"Well, as they say, misery loves company."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

House was miserable, well, more miserable than usual. He was swallowing more Vicodin than he normally did. It didn't seem to help the pain. He alternated between snapping at his team or ignoring them. Wilson suggested things they should do together, but he refused. He stayed up late drinking. He tried music to relax, but it all sounded wrong to him. In the mornings, he was tired and hungover, barely able to get out of bed and drag himself to work. Concentrating on the patient was even harder. Michael ended up leading the differential diagnosis more often than not.

Whenever Michael talked to Marianne on the phone, they were both careful not to mention House. But she sounded quiet and sad to her son. Allison was ready to attack House, to try to make him see what he was doing to himself and to Marianne. But Michael stopped her.

"Mom won't want us to do that. She sounds okay, not great, but okay. We need to let them work this out."

"In the meantime, we'll all suffer."

"Yeah, looks like it. But I'll make sure he does too." Michael said with a grin.

From then on, Michael was extra cheerful to House. He greeted him each morning with a big smile and a hug. He brought him coffee and donuts. He told jokes that House refused to laugh at. House growled at him, ignored him, yelled at him, but nothing stopped the younger man from his campaign of 'niceness.'

House ended up trying to escape his own office, which is what the team wanted anyway. He couldn't escape to Wilson's office, because he didn't want the lecture that he knew would be coming from his friend. He went to his hiding places, but unfortunately, Michael had smoked most of them out and would often find him and try to 'chat'.

Sometimes he was forced to escape to the clinic, but if possible, he was ruder than ever to the patients.

Cuddy went to his office to blast him about it, but one look at his pale face and bloodshot eyes stopped her. Wilson had told her about the break-up, but she didn't realize it would hit him this hard. It was much worse than either time that Stacey had left. She tried to be compassionate, but firm.

"House, you can't continue like this." She told him gently. "Your work is suffering which means the entire hospital is suffering. You need to do something."

"Gee, Tinker Bell, why don't you sprinkle some pixie dust and make everything wonderful."

"I can't make everything wonderful, but you can make things better."

"Yeah? And how would I do that?"

"Go see Marianne. Get back together with her."

He looked down at the floor, banging his cane as he said, "Not going to happen. Burned that bridge."

"It doesn't have to be House. I saw the two of you together. She loves you. She'll forgive you."

His blue eyes flashed at her. "Yeah, but I don't love her."

Cuddy shook her head and sighed. "Keep telling yourself that. Maybe someday you'll actually believe it."


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N: To those of you who don't know sports or Philadelphia, the Sixers is the Philadelphia 76ers, our NBA team (basketball). Allen Iverson was their star player who was traded about a year ago (don't quote me on when). Very talented, but lots of attitude, like someone else we know and love.**

**I'm being kind to you with extra chapters. Be kind to me and comment!**

Chapter 55

Since the break-up with Marianne, House had tried to avoid Wilson as much as he could, fearing what his friend would say to him. He was miserable enough about it, he didn't need someone lecturing him. And he knew exactly what Wilson would say:

"You're a fool!"

"Why can't you let yourself love someone?"

"You don't have to spend your life alone."

Blah, blah. He didn't want to hear it. Because none of it was true. He wasn't a fool. He knew exactly what was going on and why. He could let himself love. The part that was impossible was someone loving him. And, yes, he did have to spend his life alone. There was no other choice for him.

So when he heard the knock on his door, he tried to ignore it. But then he heard a voice call out, "You might as well open it. I still have a key and I'm coming in either way."

He sighed and made his way to the door and opened it. Wilson held up his hands to display what he'd brought. One hand held a six pack of beer. The other, a pizza box.

Indicating the pizza, he said, "It's from Gino's and it's loaded."

House stared at him silently. Wilson added, "Sixers are playing the Bulls."

House opened the door and Wilson stepped in. He put the beer and pizza on the coffee table and picked up the remote. He turned on the game, picked up a slice of pizza and sat back on the sofa.

House watched him as he ate the pizza and drank some beer. He was waiting for the lecture, for the advice, for …something. But Wilson's only comments were about the basketball game.

Finally House took a slice of the pizza himself and settled back on the sofa. They watched and ate in silence for awhile, then House said, "No way they'll beat the Bulls."

"I don't know." Wilson said. "You have to have faith in your team."

"Doesn't matter. They can't beat the Bulls."

Wilson looked at his friend. "If you go into the game thinking that, you're guaranteed to lose. A winning attitude means a lot."

"A winning attitude doesn't help if the other team is playing way above you. You have to face the facts."

Wilson shook his head. They didn't speak for some time more. Finally Wilson said, "You're in love with her."

"I know."

"Well, if you know…"

"Doesn't matter. She's not in love with me."

"House, you have to stop thinking that no one can love you! That's bullshit!"

"It not about that. SHE doesn't love me."

"I've seen her with you. She loves you. She glows."

"You didn't see her in New York. She didn't just glow, she glittered."

"What does that mean?"

"It's another world. She belongs there."

"If she wanted to be there, she never would have come to Princeton or stay as long as she did. She wanted to be with you."

"She felt obligated to be with me. I'm Michael's father."

"What are you talking about?"

"She convinced herself that she loved me because of Michael. And for thirty years, that was just fine and she could have gone on living her life happily. Until she actually saw me again. Then she had to make herself believe that she was in love with me. It validated everything she did. She wasn't a woman who'd had an illegitimate child. She was part of a great love that never ended. But it did. And the sooner she faces it, the better."

"Did you tell her this?" Wilson asked.

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"She said I was wrong, blah, blah. What did you expect her to say?"

Wilson was amazed. "You just told me that you love her."

"I do."

"Did you tell her that?"

"No. I told her that I didn't love her, that I never did."

"You lied to her? Why?"

"Because if I told her that I loved her, she would have stayed."

"Well…"

"And it just would have ended badly anyway. But it would have been long and drawn out with her feeling guilty and afraid to leave me. This way she can get over it and back to her real life. And her old fiancé."

"House…"

"Leave it."

Wilson opened his mouth to speak again, but the look that House gave him made him close it again. He shook his head and turned his attention back to the basketball game.

When it was over, House said, "I told you the Sixers would lose."

"They don't always lose. They used to win a lot when Iverson was on the team."

"Iverson was a jerk."

Wilson looked at his friend. "Sometimes jerks can get the job done."

"Yeah, but in the end, they get traded."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that night, long after Wilson had left, House lay in his bed. He couldn't sleep, but then, he hadn't really slept since he'd broken up with Marianne. It was dark and deadly quiet in his room. He closed his eyes and as he did most nights, he saw her face in his mind. He could imagine her lying there beside him, her beautiful body naked and ready for him.

He took his hand and touched his penis. As he manipulated it, he imagined it was her hand, her lips, her body on it. He could see her face contort in pre-orgasm joy, could hear her moans of pleasure.

In a townhouse in New York City, Marianne lay in her dark and lonely bedroom. Sleep would not come tonight again. She saw a pair of blue eyes looking intently at her. She reached down with her hand and touched her body as he had touched her. She imagined his fingers, his tongue, his cock there.

Both felt the release at the same time. Both turned over afterwards to hug their pillows. Both felt the tears run down their cheeks.


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56

About two weeks later, Michael called Marianne and told her that he and Allison were coming up for the evening. She said, "Sure, honey, that'll be great."

At six o'clock when they entered the townhouse, he was surprised not to smell anything cooking. He was even more surprised to see how messy the house was. His mother wasn't a neat freak, but she liked to keep things fairly organized. And since he had told her he was coming over, she would usually have made sure she cleaned up first.

He called out, "Mom! We're here."

But the house was silent. Michael kept calling for his mother. Eventually, she wandered down the stairs. She was wearing sweat pants and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was uncombed and her feet were bare. She looked like she had just gotten up from sleeping. The large yawn convinced them that she had.

"Oh, Michael. What are you doing here?"

Now he was concerned. "Mom, I called you today and told you we were coming."

"You did? Oh, right you did."

Michael and Allison exchanged a look. What was going on?

"Did you forget?"

"No, of course not, I was working. Just went upstairs for something."

"Mom, are you okay?"

"Sure."

"So, what's for dinner?"

Marianne looked confused for a moment, then said, "I, uh, didn't get to the grocery store today. Sorry. We could just go out or order pizza or something."

"Nick's Deli still around the corner?"

"I think so."

"Great, let's go over there. Best sandwiches in the city." He told Allison. "Why don't you go and get ready, Mom?"

"Okay, okay. I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

When she disappeared upstairs, Michael took Allison by the hand and pulled her into the kitchen.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"Come on, we're checking this out."

He opened the refrigerator and showed it to his wife. "Take a look."

Allison was amazed. The only things in the fridge were a few containers of yogurt, a bottle of wine and some condiments. He opened the cabinets, but there was no other food, other than a few bags of Doritos.

"This is weird." Allison said. "I've never known your mother to eat junk food, at least not this much."

"That's because she doesn't. She buys tomatoes by the case. She visits the produce stand almost daily to get fresh vegetables. Come on, let's check one more thing."

They went into the sitting room. There was a large drawing table by a window with a lamp by it as well. Papers and pencils were strewn on it. Michael looked closely and pointed to the supplies.

"She hasn't used these things in days. See the fine layer of dust over everything. She wasn't drawing today or even this week."

"You mother is always drawing."

"Not now she isn't. She's really sad, depressed maybe."

"Well, hopefully, we can cheer her up some." She smiled at him and he put his arm around her, but his face was grim.

They left the sitting room and heard Marianne coming down the stairs. They watched her as she entered the room. She had put on a pair of blue jeans, but still had the t-shirt on, although she had pushed it into her jeans. The sneakers she was wearing on her feet had definitely seen better days and her hair was pulled back in a haphazard ponytail. She wore no make-up.

"Are you ready to go, Mom?" Michael asked, hesitating. She couldn't be, he thought.

"Yeah, I'm ready." She picked up a sweater from the chair and pulled it on. It was covered with pills and there was a hole the size of a dime on the elbow.

Michael and Allison shared another look, then walked out of the house with her. He could see how baggy her jeans were on her. She hadn't been eating well at all.

They walked to the deli, a typical New York eatery and sat down with menus. After a few seconds, Marianne put hers down.

"Do you know what you want, Mom?" Michael asked her.

"I'll just have a salad."

"Why don't you get something more? You always liked their roast beef."

"I'm not that hungry, a salad is fine."

He looked at Allison who shook her head slowly.

Michael ordered a pastrami on rye, Allison chose a turkey club. While they waited for their food, the newlyweds looked at each other and smiled, then Michael took a deep breath and turned to his mother.

"Mom, the reason we wanted to come up tonight is that we wanted to tell you something." He put his arm around his wife. "We're pregnant."

Marianne's eyes went wide and her mouth opened. "Oh, my…oh, honey, that's wonderful! Oh, a baby!"

Michael and Allison smiled, hoping this would take her out of her funk.

"But I thought you two were going to wait a while.'

"We were." Allison said, "But nature had another idea. So we had to readjust our plans. It's okay, we just start our family earlier rather than later."

"Oh, this is so wonderful! I'm going to be a grandmother." She smiled at them, and then her smile faded. "Does your father know?"

"Not yet. We wanted to tell you first."

She looked down at the table, running her finger along the paper placemat. "How is he?"

"Still a jerk." Michael said.

Allison gave him a look, then told her. "He's not happy."

"He's never happy." Michael added. "But he's less happy than usual."

Marianne looked at him. "How are you two getting along?"

He shrugged. "Okay. It's not like I spend a lot of time with him outside of work. We've invited him to dinner, but he's not really interested in socializing with us these days."

"Is he seeing anyone?"

Allison shook her head. "I don't think so. He's not socializing with anyone. Even Wilson has said that he won't do anything with him either."

"Mom, look, this is nuts. You're obviously unhappy. He's unhappy. Why don't you do something about it?"

Her head shot up and she sat straight up. "Who said I'm unhappy?"

"I've known you, like, my whole life. I think I know when you're not yourself."

"I'm myself."

"Really? When was the last time you drew anything?"

"I was drawing yesterday."

"Right, and earlier you told us you were working today."

"I, I meant…"

"Mom, you came out tonight without your makeup."

"So? Do I have to be a glamour queen all the time?"

"You never go out without makeup. You're not eating, the fridge is empty."

"I'm fine Michael. And I don't want you telling Greg that I'm not."

"Mom…"

"Michael, promise me."

He looked upset, but she repeated, "PROMISE me. And no fair getting your wife to tell him, either. Your promises extend to her, understand, Allison?"

They both nodded glumly. The waitress brought their food and they ate in silence for a while, until Allison started to talk about the baby, effectively breaking the ice and turning their thoughts away from Marianne's well-being.


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter 57

But Michael didn't forget. And on the drive home, he told his wife, "We have to do something for her."

"But we promised her."

"We promised we wouldn't tell House. But there's someone else I can call,"

The next day, Michael dialed his cell phone.

Sandy picked up on the third ring when she saw Michael's name come up.

"Hey! How's my favorite guy?"

"I'm good Sandy, how are you?"

"Good, good. Married life treating you well?"

"Yeah, very well. Sandy, when was the last time you saw my mom?"

"Actually, it's been a few weeks. I've been in California, babysitting a client. He's got to finish his damn book and I've got to keep him sober until he does. Christ, he's driving me bonkers."

"Oh, so when will you be back to New York?"

"Late next week, I guess. If he doesn't make the deadline by then, it's not going to happen. Why? What's going on?"

"My mom is kind of falling apart."

"Come on, not Marianne. She's the most together person I know."

"She's not drawing, she's not eating. Sandy, she went out last night, in public, without makeup."

Sandy absorbed this for a moment, then said, "You can't be serious."

"No makeup, ratty t-shirt and sweater, hair barely combed. We went to Nick's."

"I'll be home tomorrow."

"I didn't want to take you away from your work…"

"I'm going to stick a pole up this guy's ass if I have to, but he will finish this. I'll be home tomorrow and I will take care of this."

"Thanks, Sandy."

"No problem, Mikey."

The next evening, Sandy walked into the townhouse. They had been friends long enough that they had keys to each other's homes and locked doors did not hold them back. Besides, Sandy had the feeling that Marianne needed some tough love right then.

She found her in her bedroom, half asleep while she watched television. Sandy walked in, turned on the ceiling light, turned off the TV.

"What…oh, Sandy, what are you doing here? I thought you were in L.A."

"I was. I'm not now. What's up with you?"

"I'm fine."

"Then why are you in bed at six o'clock in the evening?"

"Just feeling a little under the weather, thought I'd take a little nap."

"Um-hmm, and how long have you been 'under the weather'?"

"I don't know. What is this?"

"It's an intervention. I'm not letting you sit around and feel sorry for yourself or get all depressed over a guy."

"I'm not depressed over anything. Certainly not over Greg."

"Then why haven't you been working?"

"Is that what this is about? I've got three months before the illustrations are due. They'll be done."

"It's not about work. It's about you. You need to draw as much as you need to breathe. And I heard you're going out without your makeup."

"Oh, I see now. Michael called you. There's nothing wrong."

"Look, I understand not talking to Michael about it. He's your child, you want to protect him from your pain. And Greg is his father. But this is me, remember? How many times have we commiserated with each other over Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey?"

Marianne smiled. "More times that I can count."

"So no hiding from me."

"Okay."

"Okay. So do you have any Ben and Jerry's?"

"No, but there's wine."

"That'll work."

They went downstairs together and were soon on the sofa with legs curled up under them and wine glasses in front of them.

"So tell me." Sandy said.

Marianne sighed. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"I do. You fell for a guy and he dumped you. Not hard to understand."

"But it's more than that. I've had relationships end before. Yeah, it hurts, but not like this."

"You really loved him."

"Yes, but it's not just that. I've loved him for thirty years. If I was wrong, if it was wrong, what does that say about me? Does this mean that I'm a stupid fool who loved a man that never really loved me?"

"Of course you're not a fool!"

Marianne told her what House had said, that he didn't love her and that she had convinced herself that she loved him. "How pathetic am I if that's true?"

"You're not pathetic and it's not true."

Sandy thought about it though. From the few meetings she'd had with Greg House, she would have sworn that the man loved her best friend. She had accepted all his other obvious faults because of that. And Marianne was crazy for him in a way she had never been for Harry Newman.

But if House was going to leave Marianne in this much pain, then something had to be done. And she was just the woman to do it.

Sandy let Marianne talk some more, then ran out to the 24 hour convenience store and bought back bread, peanut butter, chocolate chip cookies, milk, chocolate syrup and the holy grail – Ben and Jerry's. They had a midnight feast. Sandy was happy to see that her friend ate and laughed a bit, even thought the sadness was still in her eyes.

The next day, Sandy took the train to Princeton and a taxi to the hospital. She asked the receptionist where to find Dr. House. Minutes later, she was striding into the Diagnostics Department. She walked past Michael and Allison with a quick wave. Del Toro was just mystified. They looked at each other in confusion, as she marched into House's office,

He was staring out the window as usual. He didn't turn around until he heard her voice.

"Greg House, you are a number one, USDA prime son of a bitch."

"Nice to see you too."

"It's not nice to see me. And I don't give a shit whether you want to see me or not. But you hurt my friend and that I won't put up with."

House turned back to the window. "She's fine. She has her rich and sophisticated old boyfriend courting her. She doesn't need me. And I can guarantee you that I didn't hurt her."

"You are an ASS! You really thought she wanted to be with that peacock Richard? She was bored with him five minutes after they started dating. He just kept pursuing her and she was too nice to turn him down."

He turned to look her in the eyes now. When he did, she saw his face and especially his eyes for the first time. The brilliant blue orbs that had entranced her at their first meeting were bloodshot and tired. The fact was, they didn't look much better than Marianne's had the night before. How stupid were these two?

"Okay, that's it. You're miserable, she's miserable. If you both want to be miserable, then do it together and leave the rest of us in peace."

"She doesn't want me."

"God, you're an idiot. Talk to her. Communicate. FIX THIS!"

"I can't."

"You can. And you will. Or I will personally hang you from your toes until all the blood drains from that sorry ass body of yours."

House had to smile in spite of himself. She painted a clear picture, and her delivery was so serious, but the image was ludicrous. And maybe a little scary, because he didn't doubt that she'd do it or at least try.

"She doesn't want to see me."

"Have you tried seeing her?"

"No, but…"

"Then how do you know? Go talk to her. FIX IT. And do it soon."

With that, she stormed out of the office as regally as she had entered it.


	58. Chapter 58

**I'm happy that my reviewers (all three of them!) liked the last chapter and Sandy setting House straight. You should know that I based her on an online friend of mine who is also a fan fiction writer on this site. If you read House & O/C stories, you've probably read hers.**

**This story is winding down, the end is in sight, although there are a few more chapters to go, as well as an epilogue. So, those of you who are reading and not commenting, speak now or forever hold your peace!**

Chapter 58

After Sandy left, House sat in his office, still smiling over what she had said. But as to what she had ordered him to do, well, that was another matter entirely. He just wanted to be alone in his thoughts. He wasn't alone for long.

Michael came in, closing the door behind him. He sat down across from House's desk and stared at his father for a few minutes.

Finally House barked out, "What?"

"Just wondering what you're planning on doing next."

"I'm planning on sitting here in my chair. I may play my Gameboy or even download some porn. Eventually, I'll get up and go home. Then I do it all over again tomorrow. Does that answer your question?"

Michael was silent, just staring at him. "There are things I need to tell you."

"If it's about your wife being pregnant, don't bother."

"How did you…never mind, I've long since given up trying to figure you out."

House just grinned and sat back. "So how far along is she?"

"You mean you don't know? I thought you'd have the sex, birth date and APGAR by now."

"I try to leave some things to chance."

"She's almost twelve weeks."

"So you decided to plunge into the parental pool right away."

"We didn't decide it, but we didn't complain when it happened either."

House nodded.

"I don't know if we're ready. But I guess we'll find out." Michael said.

House looked at him for a few minutes, and then said, "How do you know you won't screw up?"

"I probably will. In fact, I know I will."

House stared at him, amazed.

"But sometimes I'll get it right too. And maybe, I'll get it right more times than I screw it up. And that's about the best anyone can hope for."

House was silent. Michael watched him pondering those words and spoke some more. "I've surmised from things you've said, or not said, actually, that you didn't have a good relationship with your father."

House stared at him, his gaze daring him to say more.

"I don't know him and I don't know what went on with you two. But maybe he tried and maybe just didn't get it right as much as screwing up."

"You don't know what went on."

"I said I didn't. But I'm facing the biggest challenge of my life right now. And I guess I'm trying to be a little more understanding of others who were in that position."

"I'm not discussing my father or my childhood with you."

"Fine. What do you want to discuss?"

"Nothing. I want to stay here in my office—alone and I want you to go back out there and rub little mama's feet or something."

Michael didn't move from where he was sitting.

House rolled his eyes. "Ok, go ahead and say it."

"Say what?"

"You want to talk to me about your mom."

"No, I don't."

"Then why are you still sitting here?"

"Can't I spend time with my dad?"

House rolled his eyes again. "You saw her, didn't you?"

"Who?"

"Your mother!" House yelled.

"Well, of course I saw her. I saw her for almost thirty years. She's my mother."

House narrowed his eyes at him.

"Oh, you mean, I've seen her recently. Yes, of course. Allison and I went to see her and tell her about the baby."

"How was she?" he asked quietly.

"Very happy for us, of course."

House glared at him some more, but he could see by the look on his son's face that he wasn't going to say any more about her.

Michael watched his father, trying to find and read emotions from his face and body language. The older man looked terrible – he had looked that bad since almost immediately after the break-up. So it was hard to read much more emotion than miserable in his face. But the way he tightly clenched his cane and tried to look like he was relaxed while in reality he was very tightly wound told Michael all he needed to know.

He rose from the chair and headed back to the conference room. He turned back to House. "You know, there's no law that says a relationship has to be perfect. All it has to do is BE. Whether it's a man and a woman or a parent and a child or two friends. People try, people fail, people try again."

He started to leave again, but turned back once more. "Just so you know, I never saw her so happy as when she was with you. Not all the years with my dad, not the years after. Just thought you'd want to know."

House stared after him for a few minutes, then picked up his giant tennis ball and began tossing it back and forth, while the gears in his head kept turning. After doing this for a few minutes, he got up and went out on the balcony. He peered into Wilson's office and when he saw his friend was there, he climbed over the wall and opened the door.

Wilson looked up when House entered. He was silent and waited for his friend to speak. House collapsed into the chair and tapped his cane while he thought about what he wanted to say. He stared at his cane.

"I'm thinking of going to New York tomorrow."

Wilson smiled inwardly, but said, 'Finally snagged those tickets to 'Wicked'? Or was there another reason?"

House met his eyes briefly, then returned his gaze to his cane.

"How do you do this?" he asked the younger man.

"What?"

"This whole relationship thing."

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Because there's no cut and dried answer. It's different for every relationship. But you love her, right?"

House nodded, reluctantly.

"That's step one. Tell her. Talk to her. Then take your cue from her. You'll know if she feels the same."

"What if she says she does, then she stops later?'

"Why are you borrowing trouble? "

"Stacy stopped."

"No she didn't. You pushed her away. Don't do that this time and everything will work out. And even if by some chance, it doesn't, what's wrong with enjoying it for as long as you can?"

House looked at him and pursed his lips. He headed for the door of the office. Wilson called after him with a smirk, "Enjoy 'Wicked'!"

He went back to his office, walked through the conference room and into his office. He shut the door. Michael knew he'd been to see Wilson, so he left him alone. He assumed his best friend had given him good advice.

He had, but House wasn't sure what to do with it. He knew that he loved Marianne, that he'd always loved her. But to believe that she loved him after all these years was hard for him.

She had been married for fifteen years. She said she never loved Harry the way she loved him, but how could that be true? Michael had grown up in a loving and happy home. Could she have managed that if she didn't love Harry? She had also told him that she'd had a good sex life with Harry. Was she the type of woman who could enjoy sex with a man she wasn't in love with? He didn't know.

Then there was Richard. He was sophisticated and rich. But Sandy said he'd bored her. Was that the truth? If it was, well, maybe she didn't run back to the guy. And Sandy also said that Marianne was miserable. If that was true, maybe she'd be willing to see him, to talk to him.

But if he did go to her, he had to be sure what he wanted. She wouldn't take anymore bullshit from him.

He sat back in his chair, the Magic Eight Ball in his hand. He wished it were as easy as asking the toy a question and getting his answer from it. But life was rarely that easy.

He glanced from his office into the conference room where his son and his wife sat. They were talking with Del Toro and all three were laughing.

He had a sudden urge to join them and laugh with them. Why? It had never been his desire before to be with other people, to laugh and joke with them. But his son was someone he actually enjoyed being with. He couldn't remember ever laughing with his own father. Maybe a part of him resented Marianne for not giving him the opportunity to watch Michael grow, to be a part of his life, to laugh with him. But a large part of him just wanted to make up for the time lost between them.

He was going to be a grandfather – a grandfather! That was a sobering thought. Grandpa House. God. He remembered his own Grandpa House, a gray-haired man with a thick mustache who used to give him peppermint candy and tell him stories about his childhood in Europe. He had loved Grandpa House. Due to House's own father's military career, they had only got to visit his grandparents sporadically.

Grandpa House had died when he was ten. Alone in his bed, he had cried for the kind old man.

Would Michael's child look up to him that way? Hardly. He wasn't the type of person to hand out sweets and tell nice stories. But why did every grandfather have to be that kind? He could play music for the kid and maybe show him how to play piano or guitar. He could teach him about science, maybe do some of those kids' science kits with him.

He'd probably be smart. Michael certainly was and Allison was no dummy. It would be cool watching the kid grow and learn about life. And the benefit of a grandchild was when you got tired of him or he was being a pain in the ass, you could hand him back to his parents. Very cool!

House smiled. Yeah, this grandfather business might not be a bad thing.

But then his thoughts returned to Marianne. Somehow, he couldn't imagine doing all those Grandpa things without Grandma beside him. Grandma? Well, Marianne was certainly the sexiest grandmother he'd ever seen. There was a glint in his eye as he thought about banging a grandmother. Then he sobered. He couldn't do that if he didn't see her, talk to her. Apologize to her. Let her know how he felt and that he wanted them to be together. He wasn't big on expressing his feelings or apologizing, but the rest of his life depended on his being able to do it.


	59. Chapter 59

**I'll be away tomorrow, so no update until Sunday. Sorry! Have a great weekend everyone!**

Chapter 59

House decided it was time to take another trip to New York City. He took the train in and tried to get a cab, but it was a Friday night and they were in short supply. He ended up on the subway and had to walk two blocks to Marianne's townhouse. By the time he got there, his leg was throbbing and he was exhausted. He rang the doorbell and leaned against the railing while he waited for her to answer.

It took a long time and several more pushes of the bell before the door opened a crack. Marianne peeked out and blinked her eyes when she saw him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him.

"Hi, nice to see you too. And I would love to come in, thank you very much."

She sighed and opened the door to let him in. He limped in and she could see the pain in his face.

"Are you okay?"

"No. Damn city – can't get a cab when you need one."

"Sit down. Rest your leg."

"Thanks."

He sat on the nearest chair and stretched out his leg, rubbing his thigh as he did. He reached in his pocket for his pills and dry swallowed a couple. Then he looked up at her.

"So, how are you?" he asked her.

"Fine."

"Yeah, right." He said as he looked around the townhouse. There were changes from the last time he'd been there. One thing was the amount of clutter. There was a lot of it. Not just newspapers and such, as his home had. But trash on the floor, clothes scattered around, empty glasses – this wasn't just clutter and it certainly wasn't Marianne.

He looked at her. She was staring out the window, not looking at him. She was wearing sweat pants and an old t-shirt. Wait, he thought, sweat pants? She had told him once that no one should wear sweat pants unless they were planning on sweating. Since she didn't look like she was working out, he didn't think this was the case. He didn't think she even owned any sweat pants, then he noticed the Harvard logo on them. They were probably an old pair of Michael's that she had found. Her hair looked like it needed to be washed and at least combed. It was pulled into a ponytail, but there was more of it falling out of the elastic than in it.

And he'd been sitting there for at least five minutes and she hadn't offered to feed him. Not even a drink. He decided to test her.

"So what do you have to eat? I'm starving."

She glanced briefly at him, then back out the window. "I haven't been to the grocery store, sorry. There's probably some chips in the kitchen."

"Chips? As in potato chips?" Marianne didn't eat junk food. Pretzels was as far as she would go into snack foods, maybe some popcorn at the movies. She had chips?

"I think. Oh, wait, did you want something to drink? I think Michael brought some beer when he was here."

"I'll get it." He said. And was shocked again when she just nodded, instead of jumping up to get it herself. Marianne loved being hostess and anyone who entered her home was immediately treated like royalty. He limped into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There were a few cans of beer, a large bottle of cheap wine, some bread. He grabbed a beer and checked around the kitchen as Michael had done. And came to the same conclusion.

Back in the living room, Marianne hadn't moved from her position near the window. Worse than all of this was her apparent listlessness and lack of interest in her surroundings. She barely registered the fact that he was there. He knew she was slipping into depression and something had to be done.

He got up and went to her, pulling her roughly into his arms and kissing her with great force. She blinked a few times, then just stayed there, allowing him to kiss her. He continued, using his tongue, moving his hands over her body, trying to get a response from her. But she stayed there like a rag doll.

"Come on, baby, you know you want this. You know how good I fuck you." That should get her – the crudeness of his words and the word itself that she absolutely hated.

"I know how good you fuck me over." She said.

He pulled back in shock. He had never heard her use that word, not even in anger. To just say it like this, with no emotion? This was not his Marianne. But did he have a right to "his" Marianne?

Marianne left his embrace to pick up her glass and drink more wine. House saw an empty wine bottle on the side table and a half-filled one beside it. He realized she was drinking way too much and not eating.

He knew that she was hurting her health, especially after the cancer, but she wasn't in any condition or mood to listen to his lecture. He walked up to her, reached for her hand and pulled her with him.

"Come on, you're going to bed." He told her, leading her to the stairs.

"Sure, baby, let's get it on."

House rolled his eyes. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I don't do women who haven't showered in days and are drunk as well. Unless I got them that way for that purpose."

He dragged her upstairs, holding on to her as much as supporting her. He brought her to her bedroom and let her collapse on the bed. Her was going to undress her, but then figured what was the reason? She was only wearing the sweat pants and t-shirt and her feet were bare. He figured she could sleep like that. He pulled the covers over her.

He needed to decide what to do. One thing was for sure – he couldn't leave her here alone. She was on a path of self-destruction or at least leading to depression. He loved her too much to allow anything to happen to her. But did he love her enough to fight for her love? Did he have it in him?

He wanted her in his life. He wanted the family situation. He wanted Marianne as his wife. He wanted Michael and Cameron, uh, Newman, hell, Allison coming over for dinner with their baby. He wanted to be grandpa. God help him, this was so lame. But for some reason, he didn't feel weird about it. It felt right.

He went into the bathroom. Looked like he would be spending the night. He would have to get her back to Princeton in the morning, so that he could take care of her. When he told her the truth about how he felt, she would be fine. He got undressed and climbed into bed with her. He pulled her close to him and held her as he fell asleep.


	60. Chapter 60

**Sorry I couldn't post for the weekend - I was on a Girl Scout camping trip and too exhausted when I got home! Anyway, here's your chapter and if I'm feeling really generous, you might get another one tonight, since I can't post tomorrow. Enjoy and PLEASE REVIEW!**

Chapter 60

Marianne woke up and was confused. She didn't really remember going to bed. But then again, she didn't remember much these days. She sort of stumbled through life. As she became more aware of her surroundings, she realized that she was not alone in bed. Oh, no, what had she done?

She turned with trepidation and saw to her relief and dismay House lying beside her, snoring softly. She had a faint memory of him coming over last night, but she didn't remember anything else. What had they done? She realized that she was still dressed, so she didn't think they'd had sex. But then, why was he here?

She lay there, staring at the ceiling and wondering what she should do next, when she heard, "Good morning."

She turned and saw his blue eyes staring at her. "What are you doing here, Greg?"

"Getting ready to take you back to Princeton."

"I'm not going back to Princeton."

"Yes, you are."

"You can't force me."

"Wanna bet?"

"Why do you want me to go back?"

"Because you're screwing up your health."

"You're not my doctor."

"Okay, you do realize that all this drinking without eating is going to mess up your system especially since you're still recovering from cancer? And it's not going to help the radiation either."

"That would be a problem if I was still getting radiation."

"What are you talking about? You're supposed to get treatments for six months. It's hasn't even been four."

"It really doesn't make a difference. We all have to die sometime."

He looked at her incredulously. Speaking softly, he said, "Marianne, you told me you didn't want to die."

She shrugged. "Doesn't really matter now."

"It does! What the hell is wrong with you? We break up and you're ready to die? That's insane! What about Michael? What about the baby? You said you wanted to see your grandchildren!"

"Michael has Allison now. They're starting their own family. They don't need me. No one does."

"I need you."

She looked at him sadly. "No, you don't. You never really did."

"How can you say that?"

"I've spent thirty years in love with a man who never cared about me. How pathetic am I?"

"That's not right, the truth is…"

"The truth is that you needed me for sex, that's it. Thirty years ago, it was about sex. When I met you again, it was about sex. You never really loved me."

"It wasn't about sex. When I walked into that classroom, I thought there was nothing to interest me. Then I saw you for the first time, and you were the prettiest girl in there, the prettiest I had ever seen."

"That's bull, Greg. That classroom, that school was full of beautiful girls. Texas cheerleaders, beauty queens. Hell, one of the girls in our class was Miss Texas in the Miss America pageant."

His blue eyes bored into her. "You were the prettiest girl I had ever seen. You still are."

She shook her head. "I'm not."

"You are." He reached for her hand. "Meg, I love you."

She shook her head again. "You don't. You never did. And don't call me that! I'm not Meg. I never was."

He started to get frustrated. "Why are you doing this? How can you say it was about sex? It was never about sex."

"You were seventeen and hadn't been laid. That's all you were interested in."

"If that was the case, I would have gone to one of the cheerleaders or beauty queens. Not a Catholic girl from an old-fashioned family."

"You broke up with me to get laid."

"And came back to you when I didn't want to do it with anyone else."

"But you got it from me anyway."

"Your idea, remember?"

She looked down, then said, "You didn't complain."

"Of course not. The girl I loved wanted to have sex with me! Why would I complain?"

"You wouldn't have stayed with me if I hadn't done it."

"Bullshit. I wanted you to come to Baltimore with me."

"To have someone to have sex with."

"I was going to college. There are women in college. Lots of them. And some of them actually like to have sex with male college students. I could have figured out that I'd be able to score."

"It was just easier to bring me."

"Right, that's all I wanted."

"I'm not saying that you didn't care for me. You did. You probably still do. But love? That was never part of the equation. It still isn't."

House sat quiet for a moment, thinking. These were the exact things he had thought and said about her. How could he convince her that it wasn't the truth? Especially when he had believed the same thing himself.

"Okay, you really need to come back to Princeton."

"Again, you can't make me."

"Yes, I think I can. What do you think will happen when I tell Michael that you've stopped your treatments? How about your father and your brothers? Aunt Lily? And Sandy?'

Her saw panic in her eyes. She didn't want all of them descending upon her.

"Fine. I'll go to Princeton with you. For all the good it will do."

He made her take a shower and helped her pack an overnight bag. While she was getting ready, he went downstairs to look for food, but there was nothing in the kitchen.

When she came down, he said, "We need to get some breakfast before we leave."

"I'm not hungry."

"I didn't ask if you were hungry. You're eating."

She sighed. "There's a deli around the corner."

They went to Nick's. He ordered her a bagel with cream cheese and coffee. He had bacon, sausage and eggs with toast and coffee. While they waited for their food, he took a look at her. She still hadn't bothered with make-up, but she had washed her hair and it was pulled back neatly with a headband. She was wearing jeans and a light blue sweater.

After they finished eating, they got a taxi to the train station and caught the next train to Princeton. They were silent on the ride there. Marianne leaned against the window with her eyes closed. House stretched his leg out into the aisle and thought about what he needed to do.

The night before, when he'd made his decision, it had seemed so simple. He would tell her he loved her and that would be it. She would fall into his arms, they would get married and live happily ever after. He didn't think he would have to prove anything to her.

He knew he loved her, he was sure of that, more sure than he had ever been. He had spent the last thirty years loving her. His time with Stacy was a search for the kind of love he'd had with Marianne. He turned and glanced at her as she dozed. Yes, this woman was his life. But how did he prove to her that he loved her? That he had loved her for thirty years?

Suddenly, he thought of something. Yes, that would prove that he had loved her then and that he still loved her now. He started tapping his foot. He couldn't wait until the train pulled in. He had something important to do.


	61. Chapter 61

**This is the chapter I should be posting tomorrow, but I will be away (my daughter's field trip to Ellis Island!), so you are getting a bonus and getting it today. Enjoy!**

Chapter 61

When they arrived in Princeton, they got into his car, which he had left at the train station. He drove quickly to his apartment and he dragged her inside. He immediately went to the hall closet, opened it and began rooting around.

"What are you looking for?" she asked him.

"Something…" he stopped, remembering. The box wasn't in the closet. He had seen it a couple of years ago and it was…under his bed!

He grabbed her hand, as he dragged her into the bedroom. "Come on.'

"Greg, I really don't want…"

"Yes, you do." He pulled her down onto the floor with him and reached under the bed. He pulled out a dusty box and put it between them. Marianne looked at it curiously.

"Isn't that the alchemist's box you got in Egypt?"

"Yep. I haven't been in this for a long time. Well, once, a couple years ago, I had to get a reagent out of it to prove a woman was killing her husband, but other than that."

She looked confused, but he pushed it towards her.

"Open it." He told her.

She did and saw many little vials with chemicals in them. "Greg, I don't understand, what am I looking for?"

"Reach under the chemicals. On the right hand side, way down on the bottom. There's a folded piece of paper and a small square box. Oh, and a plaque."

She reached in, under the vials. She had to go way down, but finally her fingers touched the paper and the box and she pulled them out. The paper was a little yellow and the box was dusty. But she could see that it was a black velvet jeweler's box. Since it was hidden away from the light, the color hadn't really faded much.

"Look at the paper first." He said.

She unfolded the paper. It had obviously been crumpled into a ball, then smoothed out again and folded. She was amazed at what she saw.

"This is my letter! The one I sent you. You kept it?"

"Yeah."

She looked at the paper she had spread out on her lap. "I wrote five or six copies of this. They all had wet spots where my tears fell on them. This version had the least. But you can still see it here." She pointed to a faint dot in the corner and showed it to him.

He nodded. At the time, he had thought she stopped loving him. Now he knew that she had done it because she loved him.

"Open the box." He said.

She opened it and inhaled as she looked at the little diamond twinkling in the midst of the shiny gold hearts.

"What is this?"

"It WAS your engagement ring."

"My…what? What are you talking about?"

"When I got to Baltimore, I realized that I needed you with me. But I also knew you'd never just come and live with me. I saw that ring and put a down payment on it. It was going to be your Christmas present. I'd just finished paying for it when I got that letter."

She looked at the ring again, her eyes starting to fill. "You kept them both? All of these years?"

"I wanted to remind myself never to trust a woman again."

She looked into his blue eyes as they studied her. "But you did trust again. You loved again. You had Stacy."

"Yeah. Because I think, deep down, I was looking for you. I was always looking for you. Because I loved you then. I love you now."

She was crying now. "Oh, Greg!"

"Please marry me. I want to be in your life. I want you in mine."

"Are you sure you're not just asking because you feel sorry for me? Because I'm a pathetic loser who can't function without a man?"

"I might have sex with someone I feel sorry for. I don't marry her. I want to be married to you. I want us…to be a family. You, me, Michael, Allison, their kid. I want it all. I don't deserve any of it, but I want it."

"You really mean it?"

"I really mean it."

She started to smile, slowly, but eventually it filled her face. "Well, if you want me to marry you, you'll have to put my ring on my finger." She held out her left hand to him.

He looked confused. "I don't have a ring."

"Yes you do." She said, motioning with her head. "That one."

"But it's just a tiny little stone. I'll get you a big one. Something flashy."

"I've had big stones. Harry's was huge. Richard gave me an enormous one too. I hated them. Now I know why. I was waiting for this ring. THIS is my engagement ring. Please put it on me."

He shook his head, took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger. It fit perfectly and looked delicate and lovely on her hand.

"Do you believe I love you? That I've always loved you?"

"Yes. I believe you. I love you too."

"So, will you marry me?"

"Yes, Greg, I'll marry you."

He leaned over and kissed her. Her arms reached up and encircled his neck as she returned the kiss. His hands went around her waist and started moving down her back, then back up, under her sweater. He pushed it up and over her head, then threw it on the floor beside them. He reached down and unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs. Her bra and panties soon followed. Within seconds, she was lying naked on the floor beside him. He caught his breath. The weeks of separation had heightened his desire for her. And she was so beautiful.

"You're still dressed." She said.

"I know." He told her, then leaned back to kiss her again, this time using his tongue too. He put his arms back around her and pulled her naked body close to him. He was already hard and couldn't wait any longer. He unzipped his pants and pushed them and his boxers down just enough to release his cock. He quickly thrust into her.

It felt like coming home. He pushed her down onto the floor as he pumped up and down into her, his thrusts hard and fast.

She started moaning, then gasping as his quick thrusts brought her quickly to the edge. With a strangled cry, she went over it, losing herself in his hard, hot moves. It didn't take long before he exploded as well.

He fell onto her and they both had to try to catch their breath. Once they had, he lifted his head and looked at her.

"Welcome home." He said.

**A/N: This was originally going to be the end, but I realized that I wanted to say a little more, so there are a few more chapters to tie up some loose ends and then there's an epilogue. Thanks for reading.**


	62. Chapter 62

**Sorry for the delay - real life has been crazy lately!**

Chapter 62

They spent most of the remainder of the weekend in bed. There was a lot of time to make up for. They left it long enough to retrieve the pizza that he ordered, but they ate it in bed. Of course, not all that time was spent having sex. There was cuddling, talking, making plans. But there was a lot of sex.

House ignored the telephone. The answering machine picked it up and when there wasn't a message from the hospital, he didn't worry about it.

On Sunday evening, they were just starting to get into it again, when there was a knock on the door. Afraid it was Wilson, who would come in anyway, when he didn't answer and saw his car, House got up, pulled on a pair of boxers and limped to the door.

He opened it to Michael and Allison. He blinked at them ad said, "What do you want?"

Michael looked worried. "I can't contact my mom. I've been calling her all weekend and there's no answer. I even called the neighbor next door and she knocked, but Mom didn't answer. I didn't tell you this, but she wasn't doing very well when we went up there. I'm really worried. Maybe we should call the police."

"Relax, she's fine." House told him.

"How would you know?" Michael said angrily. "You haven't seen her or talked to her. She's missing you and you don't give a shit!"

"Michael!"

He turned when heard his mother's voice. She had pulled on her jeans and House's t-shirt, but they could see how tousled she was.

"Mom? Thank god! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Actually, she's doing…"

Marianne interrupted him, "Greg came to New York Friday night. I came back here with him yesterday. We're, well, we're engaged."

Allison gasped. "Oh, that's wonderful!"

"Really?" Michael turned to House. "You finally wised up, huh?"

House rolled his eyes.

"I even have an engagement ring." Marianne said, proudly displaying her left hand.

Michael and Allison looked at the miniscule stone in confusion.

"Uh, it's very nice.' Allison said politely.

"You cheap bastard." Michael said. "You couldn't spring for a bigger ring for my mother?"

"Hey, at least I BOUGHT one. Didn't just raid mommy's jewelry box."

"No, no." Marianne cried. "You don't understand. He bought me this ring thirty years ago when he started college. He was going to give it to me for Christmas. But I broke up with him. And he kept it for thirty years!"

"Oh, that's so sweet!" Allison gushed, looking at the ring with a new appreciation and amazement that her boss could be so romantic.

House and Michael both rolled their eyes.

"Wow, I would never have pegged you as the sentimental type. Want me to hold your hand while you watch some old movie and cry?" Michael smirked at him.

"Want me to put my cane up your—"

"House!" "Greg!" Allison and Marianne shouted together.

He shut his mouth, while Michael chuckled.

Marianne smiled at her son. "Thank you for not keeping your promise."

"But I did keep it. I never told him. I told Sandy."

"I know. I'm calling her tomorrow to thank her too." She reached up and kissed Michael on the cheek.

He smiled. "It's okay, Mom. I just want to be happy. You weren't when I saw you."

"Okay." House said. "Now that we know Mommy's okay, kiddies can go home so Daddy can continue doing Mommy."

"House!" "Greg!" Michael, Allison and Marianne shouted together.

After a few hugs and more eye rolls (from House), Michael and Allison left.

Later, House and Marianne lay in bed in each other's arms.

"So, what now?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we're engaged. When are we getting married? What kind of wedding do you want?"

"I don't care."

"You don't?"

"As long as you marry me, I don't care when or how. But we have to do something tomorrow before we make any other plans."

"What's that?"

"Go see Wilson."

"So that you can tell him about us and ask him to be your best man?" she asked him hopefully.

"No."

She tried to turn her head away, but he took her chin in his hand and stared at her, his blue eyes intense.

"You know why YOU have to see Wilson."

"He's going to be mad at me, isn't he?"

"Yep."

"Couldn't we just—"

"Nope."

She sighed. "You're not going to give me a break on this, are you?"

"Nope."

"But, Greg…"

"Look, what you did was stupid. You know the danger of not continuing your treatment. I want us to have a future together. There won't be much of one if you die of cancer."

She nodded glumly. "I'm sorry." She said, a cry in her voice.

He pulled her closer to him. "I know you are, Meg. That's why we're going to see Wilson tomorrow. He'll check you out and start your treatments again. We'll get this taken care of, then we'll plan our wedding, okay?"

"Okay.' She said, snuggling closer to him.


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter 63

The next morning, House popped his head into Wilson's office.

"Busy today?" he asked.

"What? Why?"

"Just answer the question."

"I have an appointment this morning, but I should be finished around eleven."

"Good. Meet me in the clinic, I'll hold exam room three – it's my favorite one."

"Why are we … what's going on?"

"Stop asking questions. Be there or be square." House started to leave.

"Wait, what happened in New York?"

"All shall be revealed. Clinic – eleven. Later." He was gone.

At a quarter to eleven, he engaged the team in searching hospital records for obscure diseases – busy work to keep Michael and Allison away from the clinic.

He met Marianne by the front door and led her to the clinic where Wilson was waiting. When House led her into the room, Wilson's face broke out into a huge smile.

"Marianne! You're back." He pulled her into a big hug.

"Yes, James, I am."

"So," he said to House, "Guess New York was a successful trip?"

"Almost. Tell him." He told Marianne.

She smiled at Wilson. "We're getting married."

"That's terrific! He finally used that brain of his."

House rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant, Marianne. TELL him."

Marianne turned her face away from the two men and hesitated. Wilson looked at her and then House.

"What's going on?"

House just glared at her and eventually Marianne sighed and said, "James, don't be angry at me."

"Why should I be angry at you?"

"Because I've, um, sort of missed my radiation treatments."

"How many?"

"Since I moved to New York, all of them."

"WHAT?" he yelled. "What are you talking about? I faxed your records to Dr. Stewart in New York. I even spoke to him on the phone and told him everything. It was all set up. All you had to do was show up at the hospital."

"I know, I know. I screwed up. I'm sorry."

"Why? Why would you do something so stupid?" he was sputtering with anger.

House looked at him in wonder. His friend was usually very calm and soothing with his patients. No matter what they said or did, he never lost his temper. Seeing him do it now was amazing.

"Wow, you really set him off." House told Marianne.

Wilson ignored him as he continued to sputter, "Do you realize what you may have done? If the cancer comes back and the radiation couldn't treat it? Do you realize you could have screwed everything up?"

He continued to browbeat her on what she had done. At first House was amused, then he looked at Marianne. Her eyes were starting to tear up.

"Wilson." House said. Wilson wasn't listening to him. He said it louder. "Wilson. WILSON!"

The younger doctor finally looked at him.

"That's enough." House told him, inclining his head in Marianne's direction.

"Oh God!" Wilson said, then went to her and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off like that. I don't know what got into me. Actually, I do. I've dealt with this with patients before, but never a friend. Someone I actually like."

She nodded, swallowing her tears. "I know it was stupid."

He sighed, "Yes, it was. But it's done. The only thing we can do is examine you, make sure you're clean and get you back on your treatment schedule."

"Okay." She agreed.

"Okay." He said and smiled at her. "House, I can take it from here."

"I should stay." House said.

"No," Wilson told him, "You shouldn't. Both Marianne and I will be more comfortable without you here."

"This isn't about comfort. This is about making sure you don't feel up my girl."

Marianne giggled when he called her his 'girl'. Wilson rolled his eyes and told him, "I think we've gone past that part. Out! Now!"

House grumbled some more, but eventually left.

Wilson checked for lumps, then took blood samples and arranged for a mammogram to be done. He was just about to send her down to imaging for the mammogram, when he told her, "I really am sorry for going off on you earlier."

"It's fine. You were right. It was stupid of me."

"The thing is, if the cancer came back and …something happened to you, not only would I lose a terrific lady as a friend, but I would have to deal with House. And I don't think he would recover from losing you. Not like that."

She smiled. "It's good to know he would have a friend like you to help him."

He shook his head. "Even I couldn't help him then. Losing you would be …devastating. He wouldn't be able to go on. If you love him, you need to keep yourself healthy. He needs you."

"Well, I need him too. So I guess it's mutual. Thank you, James, for helping with this. Oh, and we are keeping this quiet, right? Michael's not going to find out, is he?"

"Not from me. I'm your doctor, I don't tell anyone. However, there is someone else who might not be as discreet."

"Greg's promised me."

Wilson snorted. "Yeah, right. That's going to happen"

She smiled at him. "Well, a girl can dream."


	64. Chapter 64

Chapter 64

Marianne waited for her test results on pins and needles. House pretended that he didn't care but of course, he was just as worried. He placed the phone beside him on the sofa while she did the dishes in the kitchen.

When Wilson finally called, he picked it up quickly and barked into it. "Yeah?"

Marianne rushed out of the kitchen, a question on her face. He listened, staring at her as he did.

Finally, he said, "Okay…yeah, see you."

She was biting her lower lip as she asked, "It's bad, isn't it?"

He stared at her for few moments before saying, "You're clean."

Her face relaxed in relief. "Oh, thank God!"

"He wants another full six months of treatments just to be sure."

"That's fine."

"No skipping – no stopping."

"I know, I know. I won't."

He smiled at her. She smiled back, a happy relieved smile, then she returned to the kitchen to finish the dishes. He limped in after her and put his arms around her waist from behind.

"Okay, so now that that's settled, we can make our plans."

She turned around to look at him. "Actually, Greg, I've been thinking about that. I don't think I really want to make any plans just yet."

His face fell, worry and sadness suddenly filling it. "You don't want to marry me?"

He was so much like a little boy, she thought, worse than Michael.

"Of course I want to marry you. I just think there are some things we need to resolve first."

The relief was evident as he asked, "What things?"

"You still haven't told your parents about Michael, let alone about me. Do you plan on letting them know that you're getting married?"

He shrugged.

"What does that mean? Is that yes or no?"

"Someday."

"Greg, you can't do that. They're going to think you're ashamed of me and Michael."

"I don't care what they think."

"But I do."

"You shouldn't. They don't matter."

She sighed. "Greg, we can't start a life together until you resolve your relationship with your parents."

"Yes, we can."

"No, we can't!"

"You don't understand it."

"You're right, I don't. Because you've never told me."

He glared at her as she continued. "I don't know what's between you and your father and it really doesn't matter. I don't have to know. But whatever it is, you need to come to terms with it. You need to tell them that we're getting married. You need to tell them that they have a grandchild. And soon a great-grandchild."

"I don't need to do anything except drink my scotch and watch TV."

"You're not going to tell them?"

"No."

"You're not going to deal with it?"

"No." he said and returned to the living room.

He was watching wrestling a few minutes later when she came in.

She held out her hand to him. "Here."

He looked up at her. "What?"

"Here, take it."

He put out his hand and she dropped something into it, then walked determinedly into the bedroom. He looked at his hand and saw her engagement ring. He got up and followed her into the bedroom where she was brushing her hair.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's your ring. Don't you remember it?" she said, looking in the mirror to avoid looking at him.

"I know what it is. Why are you giving it to me?'

"Because I don't want it."

He looked confused. "You want a bigger one?"

Angry now, she turned to him. "No, you idiot, I don't want a goddamned bigger one! I don't want any goddamned ring from you!"

"You just said you still wanted to marry me."

"I did when I thought I was marrying an adult who wasn't afraid to deal with his life. But I refuse to marry a spoiled child. There are laws against pedophilia in this state."

"So if I don't talk to my parents, you won't marry me?"

"If you don't behave like an adult, I won't marry you."

"Don't threaten me!"

"It's not a threat. You have the ring."

He glared at her, then returned to the living room. She heard the TV while she got ready for bed. She picked up her sketch book and sat on the bed to draw for awhile.

She heard him turn off the TV and begin to play the piano. She put down her sketch book and got into bed. He was still playing as she fell asleep.

When she woke the next morning, he was asleep beside her. She turned and stretched and started to get up when she noticed something shiny.

Her ring was back on her finger!

How dare he! She thought, then turned and shook him.

"Greg! Wake up!"

"Huh? What?" he mumbled groggily. "Whatsamatter?"

"How dare you just put the ring back on my finger and assume I got over it! Nothing's changed since last night."

"Yes it has."

"No, it hasn't."

"Yes, it has. We're going to San Diego."

She stopped and stared at him. "What did you say?"

"We're going to San Diego to see my parents. I bought the tickets on line last night." He said around a yawn, his eyes closing again.

She was totally amazed. "You mean it?"

"Yes, for all the good it's going to do."

"Oh, Greg!" she fell on top of him and began kissing him. From that position, she could tell that although he was still half asleep, at least one part of his anatomy was awake.

He opened his eyes then. "Well, if you'd like to show your gratitude…"


	65. Chapter 65

Chapter 65

While they were eating dinner the next day, House said suddenly, "Why don't we go to Mexico?"

She looked up, startled. "Greg, you're not getting out of going to San Diego."

"No, I know that. But I don't plan on spending more than two days with my parents. So, I thought we could go to Mexico afterwards."

"For a vacation?"

"Sure."

"Oh, wouldn't that be nice? Where in Mexico?"

"How about Ciudad Juarez?"

She smiled, remembering their weekend there all those years ago. "You know, Michael was probably conceived there."

"Yeah, figured that. I can do math."

"I think it's a lovely idea, Greg."

The next few days were spent getting ready for their trip. An important piece was arranging Marianne's treatments. She needed the radiation once a week. Wilson arranged for her to have one on Monday morning and they would leave for their trip that evening. They would have all of Tuesday and Wednesday with his parents, then on Thursday, they would head to Mexico and stay until the following Wednesday when they would fly home. She would have her next treatment on Thursday when they returned.

Marianne made a quick trip to New York to bring back the rest of her stuff and her car. She hadn't unpacked the boxes when she'd gone there, so it was just a matter of loading them in her car. While she was there she shopped for her trip as well.

She carted her boxes and purchases into the apartment and tried to find a place for them. House just watched her, amused. Exasperated, she said to him, 'Do you think you could help me find a place for my stuff instead of laughing at me?"

"You can't put all that stuff in here."

"Yes, I can. Or else we need a larger apartment."

"We're not moving."

"Then we have to find a place for my stuff. I can put some of it in storage, but some stays here. And I need to set up my drawing table and lamps."

He sighed. "Just leave everything for now. We'll figure it out when we get back."

She had to agree with him. Getting ready for the trip was more important. She packed suitcases, then changed her mind, unpacked and packed again.

She started bugging him to pack his clothes, so House threw some t-shirts and underwear into a duffle and said he was done.

Marianne looked at him in amazement. "You can't be serious! That's all you're bringing?"

"Yeah, what's wrong?"

"You…how…oh! There is no way that can be everything!"

He looked at the duffle, then said, "Oh, you're right."

She sighed with relief, then watched him put two pairs of jeans into the duffle and sit down again.

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"Greg." She said slowly. "Would you like me to pack for you?"

"I don't want you to go to any trouble."

"It's no trouble, dear."

"Thanks, Meg. I appreciate that."

She shooed him out of the bedroom. He left, but when his face was turned from her, there was a smile on his face.

She dumped the contents of the duffle on the bed, then went to his closet and looked over his clothes. She pulled out the navy blue suit that she had bought him for Michael's wedding. She opened his drawers and checked out the items in there too. She sat back, thinking about it and about his behavior.

She picked up her jacket and purse and passed through the living room.

"I'm going shopping." She called out to him.

"Fine." He said, as he watched the TV and paid little attention to her.

Two hours later, she returned and carried her purchases into the bedroom. She glanced at him as she went through the living room. He was snoring on the sofa.

She took the items out of the bags and laid them out on the bed. Then she pulled out the suitcases and his duffle and packed all their stuff into them. The next day, she went to have her treatment. When she returned home, she completed the packing and put all the bags by the front door.

Wilson followed House home from the hospital and while he showered, Wilson and Marianne loaded the luggage into Wilson's car. House finished and they headed for the airport. Since House was unable to manage luggage and his cane, Marianne carried one overnight bag with essentials and checked all the rest.

Soon they were in the air and heading west.

At Marianne's urging (read: nagging), House had called his parents a few days earlier to tell them of their impending visit. Luckily, his mother had answered. She was thrilled to hear from him and even happier when she learned he was coming for a visit.

"I'm, uh, bringing someone with me." He told her.

"Who, dear?" she asked.

"Actually, a woman"

"Really? Is it serious?"

"Kinda. We're getting married."

"Oh, Greg, that's wonderful. Well, we'll be happy to meet your lady. Do you want us to pick you up at the airport?"

"No, that's okay, we'll rent a car."

When the plane landed in San Diego, House went to the car rental desk to arrange for a vehicle while Marianne waited for their luggage. With the help of a porter, she put it all on a luggage trolley and met him by the door. Before long they were heading to his parents home.

Marianne was a little nervous. Even though she had met them before, it was thirty years ago. She didn't know if they'd remember her and even if they did, it didn't mean that they'd approve of her for their son. His father had apparently not wanted Greg involved with her, based on what he had said to her father. She kept checking her hair and makeup in the mirror.

House saw her do it for the fifteenth time and finally reached over and took her hand. "Relax. There's nothing to be nervous about."

"What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm not good enough for you?"

"They won't."

"But what if they do?"

"Fuck 'em."

"Greg!"

"Do you really think I care what they think of you or me for that matter? I'm forty-eight years old for god's sake. I don't need mommy and daddy's approval, not that I ever did. Or ever had it."

She looked at him, a question in her eyes.

He glanced at her and then said, "Leave it be. This visit is not to get their blessing on our marriage. This is to satisfy your need to have me tell them about you and Michael. That's all."

She sighed, realizing he wasn't going to tell her anything more about the situation.

When they pulled up to the house, it was more modest than she expected, remembering the large home they had occupied in Ft. Bliss. But she supposed senior citizens living alone didn't need as much room.

They were barely out of the car, when Blythe House came running out. She must have been peeking out the window, waiting for them. She ran to House and hugged him fiercely.

"Greg! Oh, it's so wonderful to see you."

"Good to see you too, Mom."

Marianne smiled as she watched the meeting between mother and son, then glanced at the house and saw the tall man standing in the doorway. There was a smile on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. They registered nervous anticipation. He was nervous? About seeing his son or meeting her? She wasn't sure, but assumed she'd find out.

Since they'd arrived late that night, there wasn't much time for anything beyond introducing Marianne to his parents. House knew they did not like to stay up late, so he pretended that he and Marianne were tired after their trip and everyone headed for their rooms. It didn't take long before the half-truth became a reality and he was snoring away. She sat beside him, drawing for a while and trying to get her thoughts and emotions together for the next day's confrontations.


	66. Chapter 66

Chapter 66

When Marianne woke up, House was still sound asleep. She was unsure what to do, but when she heard movement in another part of the bungalow, she assumed his parents were up. His father had mentioned that he would be playing golf in the morning. She dressed and ventured out of the room.

She made her way to the kitchen and found Blythe at the table, drinking coffee and reading a book. She looked up when Marianne entered and smiled.

"Good morning. I suppose Greg is still asleep?'

"Good morning. Yes, he is."

Blythe laughed. "He always hated getting up early. I assume that hasn't changed."

"No, it hasn't."

"Would you like some coffee? Breakfast?"

"I would love coffee. But please don't go to any trouble for me."

"It's no trouble at all, dear." She brought the younger woman some coffee and put out a plate of Danish pastry when Marianne refused eggs or pancakes.

They sat sipping coffee and munching on pastry for a few minutes. Blythe kept glancing at Marianne.

Finally, she said, "I know this must sound crazy, but I keep thinking that I've met you before."

Marianne smiled at her. "Actually, Mrs. House, you have met me before."

"I thought so! Oh, and, please call me Blythe. So, when did we meet?"

Marianne took a deep breath. Should she tell her this? Should she wait for Greg? He'd either be really happy that she told his mother for him, freeing him from the chore or he'd be really upset that she stuck her nose in his business. But it was her business too and his mother was asking. It would be rude to put her off.

"We met thirty years ago. I dated Greg in high school in Ft. Bliss, Texas."

"Oh, Lord! Of course! Now I remember. The two of you dated all through senior year. You went to the prom together."

"That's right."

"And now you've found each other again. Oh, how romantic!"

Marianne smiled.

"You know," his mother said, "I always thought that he really loved you. It was such a shame that he went to college and broke up with you."

"What?"

"When I asked him what happened, he told me he broke up with you."

"Really?" That was interesting, she thought. He had told his mother that he was responsible for their break-up. She was interrupted from saying anything more by a shout from the bedroom.

"Marianne!" she heard House yell. "Get in here now!"

She had a feeling she knew what this was about. She excused herself to his mother and headed into the bedroom. He was there in his underwear and had dumped the contents of his duffle on the bed.

"What the hell is this? He yelled, pointing to the mess on the bed.

"That's your duffle, Greg."

"Who's clothes are in it?"

"Yours."

"No. They are definitely NOT my clothes." He picked up the pants. There were three pairs, black, navy and tan. "These are DOCKERS. And one of them is khaki. I get sick just thinking about that as a color. And these," he picked up some shirts, "Are golf shirts. I didn't wear golf shirts when I did play golf. Where are my jeans? Where are MY shirts? Where did this crap come from?"

"Well, honey, when you didn't want to pack and you didn't tell me what you wanted to bring, I just used my own judgment. And since your clothes were a little ragged, I thought I'd get you some new stuff."

He stared at her in amazement. "Do you really expect me to wear that shit?"

She nodded.

He looked around the room and saw the clothes he'd worn on the plane the day before. He pulled on the jeans and t-shirt, then limped to the bathroom.

She sighed and smiled. She'd take care of that too. She returned to the kitchen. His mother looked concerned, but Marianne told her not to worry.

They were just starting another cup of coffee when House came into the kitchen. Blythe jumped up and started making breakfast for him.

Once he was served pancakes and sausage, Blythe returned to the conversation she'd been having with Marianne. She told him how she'd recognized Marianne and that she'd admitted they dated thirty years ago.

"I think it's very romantic."

"What's romantic?" John House said from the doorway.

All three turned to watch him enter the room. House was the first to turn away, returning to his food, but losing his appetite.

Blythe immediately told her husband about House and Marianne's prior relationship. John's face registered deep thought as he tried to remember the girl Marianne had been. He hadn't recognized her and had a hard time remembering.

House watched his father's face as Blythe reminded him, "Greg dated her throughout his senior year. Until he went off to college. Don't you remember?"

"Vaguely." Her husband said.

Marianne looked at House, telling him with a look that he needed to tell them the rest.

He blew out a breath and said, "There's more, Mom."

"More what, dear?"

"More to the story. When I went to college, Marianne was pregnant with my kid."

His mother stared at him in shocked silence, but he kept watching his father. However, he only saw amazement on the man's face.

"I never knew it." House continued. "So I didn't meet my son until a few months ago."

"You have a son?" Blythe said, tears starting to well in her eyes. "We have a grandson?"

"Yep."

Marianne picked up the story. "His name is Michael. I knew Greg would never be able to take care of us and go to school. So I didn't tell him."

"This is unbelievable!" Blythe said. "A grandson."

"More than just that." Marianne added. "He got married a few months ago and they're expecting a child. You're going to be great grandparents as well."

The tears were running down Blythe's smiling face at this point. John House still just looked amazed at the words.

"I'm surprised you didn't know about it, Mom." House said to his mother.

"How..how would I know? You didn't even know. How would I know?"

"I thought maybe Dad told you."


	67. Chapter 67

Chapter 67

John House looked up quickly. "Me? Why would I tell her? You didn't even know about it. How would I?"

"Because Marianne's father told you."

"What are you talking about?"

Marianne kept her eyes down. She knew that House would have to handle this on his own. Blythe just looked perplexed.

"Her father was a sergeant at Ft. Bliss. He went to see you. And told you that Marianne was pregnant. Don't you remember what you told him?"

His father was concentrating, as if he was trying to remember something.

"Come on, you don't remember calling her a slut and telling her father that they wouldn't get anything from you?"

John's face registered confusion, then, suddenly, realization.

"Oh, God, I did, but I didn't realize…"

"Right." House said derisively.

"John, how could you?" Blythe said.

"No, it wasn't like that. It had happened before. When Greg was sixteen and we'd spent just a few months in Alabama. The area was dirt poor and all the women tried to get whatever they could out of the servicemen. All the men were warned to watch out.

"Greg was friends with a girl there. And they were just friends. I knew that. But her family was white trash."

House interrupted. "Wait, how would you know if I was just friends with her?"

John snorted. "Please. I'm your father. I knew you well enough then to know when you became sexually active. Anyway, her father came to me, said his daughter was pregnant and what was I going to do about it. Since I knew that he had to be lying, I called him on it. He ended up almost crying, admitted he'd lied and slunk off."

"Well, if you knew me so well, you had to know it was different with Marianne."

"Yeah, I did. I knew you were sleeping with her."

"So why did you say that to her father?"

"I thought he was lying too. Trying to get money out of us."

"My dad would never do that." Marianne said.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't know your father well enough to know if he was lying or telling the truth."

"So why didn't you tell me?" House asked him.

"Because I assumed that if she was pregnant, she would have told you and you would have done something about it."

"Why would you assume that?"

"Because you're my son and I think I taught you something about honor and doing what's right."

Marianne and Blythe looked at each other. House was silent for several minutes, then he glanced at the three people in the room and said, "You know, the three of you have all made decisions as to what was right for me. And they've all been crap!"

"Greg!" His mother said.

"Let him talk, Blythe." John said quietly.

"Yeah, let me talk. Your way of raising a kid was shitty, Dad. You said you taught me about honor and doing what's right? You know what I learned? I learned that honor is inside you and no one can teach it to you. And your lessons about what's right were wrong. I learned that I would never teach my kid the way you TAUGHT me.

"And Mom, you sat by and let it go on. I know you didn't have much power, but you had some. And you could have stopped him if you'd really tried."

Then he turned to Marianne. "And you decided that I wanted my career more than I wanted you or my son. What gave you that right?"

He looked at the three of them, then left the house. Marianne started to go after him, but Blythe put her hand on her arm.

"Let him be, dear. He needs the time alone to sort everything out. He'll be back."

John spoke to her then. "If I'd known your father was telling the truth, I would have told Greg. But we didn't have a very close relationship even before he went to college. Afterwards, well, it's like he just detached himself completely from his family."

"Maybe if you'd been a bit more understanding of him, he wouldn't have." Blythe said.

"Understanding? How the hell could I be? I NEVER understood him." He looked at Marianne. "Is your son smart?"

"Yes, very."

"Smarter than you?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Did you ever find yourself being harsher because of that? Because you couldn't outsmart your own kid, even when he was little? So you had to come down harder to keep control? That's how it was for me. He was always so damn smart. I didn't know what the hell to do with him."

Marianne studied the older man. "I guess I can see where you're coming from. And I guess I was sometimes tempted to just fall back on the old 'because I said so'. But Michael and I have always had a very open and honest relationship. I used his intelligence to make him understand right and wrong and the consequences of his actions."

John just shook his head. "You're a different generation than I am. My parents didn't believe in open and honest. A firm hand kept a child in line."

Marianne began to imagine a little of what House had probably gone through growing up. A very intelligent little boy and a hard line, stern and traditional father. There had to be a lot of pain in that relationship. It explained so much about the man she loved.

Two hours later, Marianne was sitting in their room, drawing, when House came in. He walked over to her slowly, then sat beside her on the bed.

"Where is everyone?" he asked.

"Your dad is taking a nap and your mom is running some errands."

He nodded and they sat in silence for a while. Finally, he said so quietly that she almost didn't hear him, "I'm sorry."

"What, oh, you don't have to apologize, Greg. I realized a long time ago that I was wrong for not telling you about Michael."

"I shouldn't have said it, not there, not then. I don't blame you, I really don't. You were right to do what you did. I would have been a lousy father."

Her eyes started to well up. "You would have been a great father. You ARE a great father. You're going to be a terrific grandfather."

He stared at her. "You don't know if any of that is true."

"I do. Because you would have tried your hardest to be different from your father. And when you want something, you don't give up until you get it."

"Meg, uh, my father…" He started, but she could see that it was hard for him.

She put her hand on his arm. "Greg, you don't have to tell me. It doesn't matter. The only thing that does is that you understand in your own heart and mind, that you made yourself the man you are. You can't credit or blame anyone else. If you can accept yourself and put your relationship with your father behind you, that's all that matters."

His blue eyes gleamed as he looked at her, then looked down at the floor. "I couldn't. Before, I couldn't put it behind me. It was always there, always …haunting me. But since you, I think, I'm beginning to think I can."

She smiled at him. "That's all I ask, my love."

He smiled and gave a short laugh. "I love you." He reached out and touched his lips to hers. "But I hate your choice of clothes for me."

She giggled. "Yeah, about that. I don't see what's wrong with Dockers."

"I could stomach Dockers if I had to. Except for the khakis. But golf shirts? No way."

"Okay, I can live with that. Can you open my small suitcase? The one on the chair over there?"

"The one with all your personal doodads?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

He went to the suitcase and opened it. He could see her panties and bras on one side. The other side had a large clear plastic case that held all manner of personal care items, including tampons and sanitary pads. He looked at her and asked, "Okay, so?"

"Pick up that case. The one with the tampons in it."

He rolled his eyes, but gingerly lifted the case. Underneath it were his jeans and several t-shirts.

"What? Why? You packed them anyway? Didn't you think I might find them?"

"I put them under the tampons. No man will touch a tampon if he can avoid it. The hell with mace, I could be well-protected on a New York street, armed with a tampon."

He rolled his eyes, then said, "Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't lie. I wanted you to understand."

"Understand what?"

"That I am not your servant. That you don't decide that you're too bored to do something, so you can maneuver me into doing it."

"Oh, you were teaching me a lesson?"

"In a way. I was teaching you that this marriage has to be a partnership. Two equals working together to make it work. If you can't stand beside me and be my partner, then I don't want any part of it."

He looked at the floor for a moment. He knew she was right. When he had decided to marry her, he knew that he would have to work at keeping the relationship going. He went back to the bed and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm kind of shaky when I stand, but I can try. I can't think of not having you as my wife and my partner."

She hugged him tighter. "Then that's what I'll be."


	68. Chapter 68

**This isn't the last chapter, but almost. Enjoy!**

Chapter 68

House and Marianne had a peaceful dinner with his parents that night. House was able to keep calm around his father. He would never forgive him for what he'd done, but, mostly for Marianne's sake, he tried to remain civil with him.

That night as they lay in bed, House said to Marianne, "Let's get married."

She looked confused. "I thought that was what we were planning on doing?"

"No, I mean let's get married this weekend, in Mexico."

"Just like that? What about our friends and our family?"

"Do we really need them? Shouldn't it just be us?"

She thought about it. Although she would have liked to have her family and friends present, she knew that he didn't like a lot of fuss and bother. He had done a lot this week, facing his family like this. And the most important thing was that they were married.

"Okay, let's do that. Let's get married in Mexico."

The next day, Marianne and Blythe went shopping. Since they weren't telling anyone that they were getting married that weekend, she couldn't tell the older woman why she needed a new dress. She just said that she wanted something really special to wear on their trip.

In a little boutique, she found the perfect dress. It was a white background splashed with dark pink and blue flowers. The a-line shape flared out just below her waist and the hemline skimmed the tops of her calves. It had spaghetti straps and the neckline fell in an attractive scoop. It was flattering to her breasts without being too revealing. She found some dark pink strappy sandals to wear with it. She would add a flower or two in her hair just before the ceremony.

House could still wear his navy suit from their son's wedding and he would still match her. She'd make sure he pinned on a pink flower – whether he liked it or not.

They came home with her purchases and enjoyed lunch with his parents before packing up the rental car and heading to the airport. Blythe was full of smiles as she hugged Marianne.

"I'm so glad Greg found you again. I know you're going to make him happy. And I can't wait to meet my grandson." His mother told her.

Marianne hugged her back. They had gotten along really well. She wouldn't mind at all having Blythe House as a mother-in-law.

They got on the plane and headed East to El Paso. From there, they rented a car and drove down to Ciudad Juarez as they had after graduation. House had made a reservation at the Hotel Maria Bonita, which was very charming.

As soon as they arrived, they inquired about getting married there and were told where they needed to apply for a license. They made it just before the office closed and were told that it would be ready on Friday. Since they hoped to get married on Saturday, that was perfect.

The next day they knew they needed to find a place to actually get married. They walked around a bit, looking for a place to have the wedding. They considered a park or other outdoor locations, but Marianne's eyes kept wandering to the churches.

"You want to get married in a church, don't you?" House asked.

She smiled wistfully. "I do. But I know that you don't, so it's okay. We'll find somewhere that's right."

He looked at the little chapel that was in front of them. The sign above the door said Santa Anita. It was old and very charming. He took her hand and led her to the door.

"What are you doing? You don't want this. You don't believe in God."

"No, but I believe in you. And you want this. So I guess I can handle it. Just don't make me do any crazy Catholic things."

"Like what?" she laughed.

"I don't know,

"I promise."

They went in and talked to the old priest. He agreed to marry them on Saturday at 12 noon.

With all of that taken care of, they returned to their hotel and the comforts of their room.

Late in the afternoon on Friday, House told her he had to do some errands – without her. She tried to find out what he was doing, but he wouldn't give in. He was gone for about two hours, and when he returned he was smiling smugly.

"What did you do? Did you buy me something?"

"You'll see."

She was perplexed, but he wouldn't tell her anything. They went to sleep and she realized that the next time they slept together, it would be as husband and wife.

The morning of their wedding was hot and sunny. Of course, it was Mexico and it was usually hot and sunny. House said he would get dressed somewhere else to give her time to get ready and so that he wouldn't see her before the wedding. He arranged with the hotel to have a taxi waiting for her to take her to the chapel.

She dressed carefully. She was very happy with the dress that she'd selected. It was perfect for a Mexican wedding. She curled her hair and pinned a few pink flowers into it. She picked up the small bouquet of flowers, also deep pink and got ready to go.

As promised, the taxi was waiting for her. It took her to the chapel. She got out and waited in the vestibule. The priest had promised that he would provide some witnesses. She wasn't sure if she had to wait for them, but House had told her to wait there and someone would meet her and tell her what to do.

She was making sure the flowers were arranged correctly, when she heard a familiar voice behind her say, "Miss, do you need someone to give you away?"

She turned quickly to see her father standing there. "Dad? What are you doing here?"

He smiled at her, but before he could answer, another familiar voice said, "How about a maid of honor? Need one of those?"

She whipped her head around to see Sandy standing there.

"I don't understand. What are you guys doing here?"

"We're here for your wedding." Sandy said.

Just then music started to play. Joe Gregory held out his hand. "Shall we, honey?"

She took her father's arm and followed as Sandy walked slowly into the chapel. As she walked down the small aisle, she saw House standing at the altar, with an evil grin. Standing beside him was Wilson, also grinning. In the pews on the right side were Cuddy, Michael and Allison and John and Blythe House. On the left side were Aunt Lily, David and Ron and Sandy's friend Allejandro (who really did look like Antonio Banderas, wow!)

As she took in the sight of the people she cared about most in the world, tears poured down her face. When she reached the altar and House took her hand, she lost all semblance of calm and fell into his arms, weeping uncontrollably.

"It's okay." He said, "Don't cry."

"I love you so much. This is all so wonderful. You're so wonderful"

"Well, I could have told you that! Now stop crying and let's get married."


	69. Chapter 69

Chapter 69

_**Princeton, two weeks earlier…**_

House burst into Wilson's office the day after they decided to visit Mexico.

"What do you have to do to get married in Mexico?" House asked him.

"How should I know? " Wilson said.

"Well, you're the marriage expert. You've done it so many times, I assumed you knew all wedding traditions."

"First of all, I've never gotten married in Mexico. And second, why do you care?"

"Because I want to marry Marianne in Mexico."

"Well, that's great! So what does Marianne want to …"

"She doesn't know."

"She doesn't know what?"

"That I'm planning on marrying her in Mexico."

"Wait, she's knows you're taking her to Mexico, right?"

"Right."

"But she doesn't know you're planning on marrying her there?"

"Right."

"When do plan on telling her this?"

"Just before we get there."

"Okay. So, just the two of you?"

"Yeah."

Wilson looked skeptical and House stared at him for a few minutes, then said, "What?"

"Well, it's just that she's really close to her family. I can't imagine that she wouldn't want them at her wedding."

"She won't care. As long as we get married."

"Probably. At least she'll tell you that because she loves you and she'll want to make you happy."

House tapped his cane on the floor a few times and looked thoughtful. Then he glanced at Wilson and said, "What do you think it would take to bring everyone down there?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I paid for the hotel and the airfare, do you think they would pay for their meals and drinks?"

"Probably. Wait, YOU are going to pay for everyone?"

"Well, I'm not inviting the world. Just a few people. But yeah, I'll pay for it. I figure it'll cost less than a big wedding would and be less trouble."

Wilson thought about it for a few minutes, then said, "Who do you want to invite?"

"Who should I?"

"Well, obviously Michael and Allison. Her father, her aunt, her brother and his partner. Sandy to be her maid of honor. And then if you have anyone."

Wilson waited for House to say something. House just stared at him, then grinned. "Why don't you just ask me?"

"Ask you what?"

"To be my best man."

"What makes you think I want to be your best man?"

"Oh, I thought you did. Well, that's fine, then, I'll ask Foreman."

"Foreman? Why in hell would you ask Foreman? You don't even like him!"

House gave him an evil grin. Wilson blew out a breath.

"You know," he said. "I don't even want to be your best man."

House said, "If I don't ask you to be my best man, who am I going to scam lunch from afterwards?"

"That's true." Wilson said.

"So, are you going to bring a date?"

"Yes…uh, probably…yes."

House gave him another evil grin. "You're going to bring Cuddy, aren't you?"

Wilson looked sheepish.

"Are you sleeping with her?"

"I'm not telling you that."

"You are! You dog!"

Wilson somehow managed to steer the conversation away from his love life by promising to make all the arrangements for the travel to Mexico while House was in San Diego. He went on line and found two hotels in Ciudad Juarez. One for House and Marianne to stay at and one for everyone else to stay at that would be far enough away that Marianne wouldn't run into anyone.

He asked House if he was inviting his parents. House said no, but Wilson made a reservation at the hotel for them anyway, just in case.

Then House called Marianne's Aunt Lily. He knew that she would call her father and brother and make arrangements for all of them to go to Mexico. She readily agreed to.

House told Michael what he was doing and not to tell his mother. Michael wasn't sure about the surprise wedding, but agreed to keep it a secret.

He also called Sandy and she was excited about the trip and the surprise. She would be thrilled to come and she'd bring her boyfriend.

Great, House thought, another airfare.

_**San Diego, two days earlier…**_

After the air had been cleared a bit with his parents, House considered whether he should invite them. He knew that his mother would be disappointed when she found out they got married and he didn't invite her. Of course, that meant his father would come as well, but maybe they could tolerate each other for that long. Marianne would be happy if he invited them.

While Marianne was in the shower on Thursday morning, House told his mother about his secret wedding plans. A part of him was still hoping that they wouldn't be able to come, but his mother got very excited about the plan and promised she'd be there.

House called Wilson and told him to make another reservation. Wilson just smiled and said, "Fine, no problem."

When Marianne suggested shopping to Blythe for something special to wear on her trip, Blythe readily agreed, realizing they were shopping for the younger woman's wedding dress. She was thrilled to be able to help her future daughter in law select the dress she would wear to marry her son.

They hugged goodbye, Marianne with tears, wondering when she would see this lovely woman again and Blythe with suppressed excitement as she held in the news that they would see each other again soon.

**_Ciudad Juarez, one day earlier…_**

When House left Marianne to run some 'errands', he got into the rental car and hurried to the Radisson Casa Grande where everyone was staying. He met Wilson in the lobby and he led them to the lounge where the Princeton contingent and the New York contingent were talking and laughing together. His parents still hadn't arrived, but they were expected any time.

House got them all to "Shut up!" then proceeded to give them the address of the church and the time they should all be there.

Wilson had arrived earlier that day and arranged for a party in a small cantina that had a back room and was willing to rent it out. House glared at him, thinking of the extra money he would be spending.

But Wilson told him, "Relax. It's a gift from your best man and maid of honor."

Sandy gave him a wicked grin and he sat back, accepting the drink that Marianne's brother David brought him. At that moment, there was some commotion, as his parents came rushing in.

His mother was full of apologies for being late, but his father just looked around at the people gathered there. He greeted Wilson, whom he had met before and waited for House to introduce them to everyone.

House sat back with his drink and glared at Wilson, who sighed and took the older couple around to meet Marianne's family. There was an icy air when Joe Gregory shook his hand. House watched, slightly amused. He supposed he would have to tell his future father in law what John House had said about the incident, but not right now.

The only people left for the House's to meet was Michael and his wife. Wilson went to House and whispered, "You should introduce your parents to your son."

House gave him a sour look, then sighed and rose from his chair.

He went to his parents and said, "Want to meet your grandson?"

Blythe's eyes flew open as she nodded. House called out, "Michael, come here."

Michael approached them with Allison at his side.

"Mom and Dad. This is Michael. Michael, your grandparents."

"Hi. Nice to meet you." Michael said as he smiled at them.

Blythe looked up at the handsome young man and saw her son's blue eyes shining at her. Tears immediately filled her eyes. John reached out a hand. As Michael took it, John said, "Good to see you, son."

Michael smiled, insure how to respond to the man. He glanced at House, but he was tapping his cane and looking at the floor. Michael knew that House and his father didn't get along well. If he was friendly to his grandfather, would that be disloyal to his father?

He was saved from making a decision by his wife, who stepped forward and held out a hand to the older couple.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. House. I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Allison Cameron. I work for your son and I met you when you visited him at the hospital."

"Of course!" Blythe said, "I remember you. And Greg told us that you're married to Michael now. And expecting a child."

"Yes, we are." Allison said, with a smile.

Since everyone was smiling and making nice, House went back to his chair and his drink. They all spent some more time working out the details for the wedding. At least Wilson did. Whenever he asked House for his opinion, the groom just said, "Right, whatever."

Finally, House said, "Okay, I need to get back to Marianne. Text me if there's a problem. Or, better yet, just handle the problem. See everyone tomorrow."

With that, he left and returned to Marianne who tried to find out where he'd been and what he'd done, but he held firm.

_**Two hours earlier…**_

House knocked on Joe Gregory's hotel room door. He had wanted to go to Wilson's room to get ready, but Cuddy was in there with him. Everyone else had a woman in the room who wouldn't appreciate House getting dressed in their room. Except David and Ron, who had offered their room, but House had politely declined. The only single man therefore, was his future father-in-law.

Joe opened the door and let House limp in carrying his suit in a garment bag along with his accessories and the small pink flower Marianne had insisted be pinned on his lapel.

"Thanks." House told Joe. "Hard to get dressed with the chicks around."

"No problem." Joe replied.

House had already showered and put on his suit pants, so he starting pulling on his shirt and tie. While he dressed, Joe watched him, then said, "You're marrying my daughter today."

House looked at him quizzically. "Right, I think that's why we're all here."

"My daughter is very special to me. I won't let anyone hurt her."

"Do you think I'm gonna hurt her?"

"I don't know. I'm just telling you that if you lay a hand on her, I will take you out. I may be old, but I can still do it. And if I can't, I know people who will."

"I know you're Italian, are you making me an offer I can't refuse."

"No. Just warning you."

House was silent, fixing his tie and combing his hair. Finally, he looked at the older man and said, "I'm not the nicest person in the world. I can't tell you that her life with me is going to be sunshine and roses all the time. In fact she's gonna be angry at me more than happy."

"Good."

House gave him a look of amazement."

"Harry, her first husband was a great guy. I loved him like one of my best pals. But he was too nice to her. He gave her everything she wanted, treated her like a princess. She got lazy about it. With you, she's gotta work at it and that's good. Keep her on her toes and keep her young. My wife gave me hell every day that we were together. I've grown old since she died. I wish someone would give me hell again, but I'll never find another one like her."

House gave him a small smile and aid, "Well, then, you don't have to worry. I promise to give her hell all the time. No problem.

"Seriously, I'll never try to hurt her, but sometimes I might. Lots of times I might. I won't ever hit her. I don't believe in that. My words, though, that's another thing all together."

"As long as you don't touch her in anger, she'll be okay. She's tough and she's got her mother's temper. She can give as good as she gets."

"Okay."

"Okay."

House finished getting dressed and the two men left the room.

When everyone was ready, they piled into cars and drove to the little chapel. House spoke in Spanish to the priest and set up a CD player with music cued to begin when the ceremony was over. He gave it to a lady from the church and told her when to hit the button.

**_Ten minutes earlier…_**

All the family and friends took their seats. House and Wilson went to the altar. Joe and Sandy went to the back, near the vestibule to wait for Marianne. When they saw the taxi pull up, they warned everyone.

Marianne walked into the vestibule and waited for someone to tell her to enter. Joe came up behind her and said, "Miss, do you need someone to give you away?"

She turned quickly to see her father standing there. "Dad? What are you doing here?"

He smiled at her, and waited while Sandy said, "How about a maid of honor? Need one of those?"

House waited anxiously for her reaction. When he saw her start down the aisle, he felt so excited. He was actually marrying the woman he had loved for thirty years. As she approached him, his face broke out into a grin with an evil tint to it. He saw the tears running down her face. He took her hand, and she fell into his arms, weeping uncontrollably.

"It's okay." He said, "Don't cry."

"I love you so much. This is all so wonderful. You're so wonderful"

"Well, I could have told you that! Now stop crying and let's get married."

When she finally controlled herself, they turned towards the priest, holding each other's hands. The priest spoke briefly, in Spanish, of love and marriage and the holiness of the sacrament. Then, in halting English, he said, "Do you, Gregory, take Marianne as your wife?"

"Yes." House said, his blue eyes staring intently into her brown ones.

"And do you, Marianne, take Gregory as your husband?"

"I do." Marianne said, her voice cracking with the tears that still filled her eyes.

"Do you have the rings?" The priest asked.

House nodded and turned to Wilson, who handed him a ring.

"With this ring, I thee wed." House said to her as he placed a diamond studded ring on her finger.

She felt Sandy beside her hand her something. She smiled and took the ring that House had given to Sandy earlier, they turned to House.

"With this ring, I thee wed." she slipped the gold band on his finger. He smiled at her.

The priest placed his hand on top of their joined ones and said, "I now pronounce you man and wife. What God has joined, let no man take apart. You may kiss."

House pulled her towards him and put his arms around her as his lips met hers. At that moment, the CD player began playing "My Sweet Lady."

The tears began again when Marianne heard that song. House looked at her and rolled his eyes.

"Again with the tears?" he asked.

"I can't help it. I can't believe you remembered the song. You are the sweetest man ever."

"Well, don't tell anyone that, I have a reputation to uphold."

"You just shot your reputation."

They came down the small aisle and their family and friends swarmed around them. Michael hugged and kissed his mother.

"Congratulations, Mom." He said. "I think."

Everyone congratulated them. Hugs and kisses were plentiful. House tired to endure it all without looking like he was happy. Marianne couldn't speak – she was too busy crying.

David's partner, Ron, was an amateur photographer and had volunteered to take pictures for them. He wanted to get some before they left the church, but Cuddy stepped in.

"Give us ten minutes." She said, grabbing Marianne's arm and leading her to the back of the church and outside.

"Here." She said, handing Marianne a small bag.

"What's this?"

"A mirror and make-up. You just cried all of yours off. I don't think you want to take pictures like that."

"Okay, now I'm gonna cry again! How did you know I'd be crying this much?"

"When I found out what House was doing, I knew you'd be crying."

She smiled. "Thank you, Lisa."

While Cuddy held the mirror for her, Marianne reapplied her make-up. As she did, she asked, "So you came with James?"

A small smile was her answer.

"Are you two together now?"

"I guess."

"Are you happy?"

Cuddy sighed. "Yes, I am."

"Oh, I'm so happy for you, Lisa. You two seem great together."

"So are you and House. He's so much better with you. You're exactly what he needs."

"He's exactly what I've always needed."

They walked together back into the church.


	70. Chapter 70

Chapter 70

After pictures were taken at the chapel, they all went to the cantina that Wilson had arranged for their reception. Food and drink flowed with the good wishes. Marianne wanted to know all the details of how House had planned the wedding.

"This was the nicest, sweetest thing he could have done for me!" she said, her arms around her new husband's waist. House smiled smugly, drinking in the praise along with the tequila.

"You do realize that he got other people to do most of the work?" Wilson asked her.

"Well, of course he did. That's what makes him so brilliant. But he planned it. Getting others to do the work doesn't change the fact that it was his idea."

Wilson just shook his head while everyone else laughed.

"Well, I think it's terrific." Sandy said. "And getting married in Mexico is cool. But I would have thought you'd pick a more glamorous place than Juarez. I mean, it's okay, but…"

"No, you don't understand. This place is special to us. We came here after our graduation." Marianne told her. "And Michael was conceived here."

Michael's head shot up. "What? Are you kidding me?"

"No, this is where you were conceived."

"I really don't want to know this. And don't be pointing out the actual place. It's too creepy!" Michael shuddered. Allison smiled and gave him a hug.

"Someday we'll be telling our child where he or she was conceived."

"God, I hope not." But he smiled and kissed her.

"Wait," her father said, "You told me you were staying with a girlfriend after graduation. You lied to me and came here with your boyfriend."

"Yes, Dad. Sorry, I lied."

"Young lady, you're grounded!" Everyone laughed.

Marianne had noticed the looks her father was giving John House, so she pulled him aside and revealed what John had told them. She begged him not to hold it against her new father-in-law. Joe listened, then nodded and agreed.

By the end of the night, the two men were drinking together and reminiscing about the Marine Corps.

Everyone drank a little too much. Since they had all shared taxis to the cantina, this wasn't a problem. When the reception was over, they piled into more taxis and returned to the hotel. Marianne and House found their own, since they were staying at a different hotel.

When they got to their room, House collapsed on the bed.

"Are you tired?" Marianne asked him.

"Yes." He said, then looked at her and saw the look on her face. "But not too tired to enjoy my wedding night. The best thing about being married is unlimited sex. So, start the unlimited sex."

She smiled and said, "I'll be right back."

She went into the bathroom. While she was gone, he removed his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He took off his shoes and socks and sat back on the bed to wait for her.

A few minutes later, she emerged. His eyes lit up when he saw her. Leave it to Marianne to combine sexy with sweet. She was wearing a short red, lace nightie. It had thin straps and the neckline plunged provocatively low. It clung enticingly to her curves. But the sexiest part of it, was the long red scarf that was draped around her neck.

She approached the bed and climbed up on it. She reached down and kissed him lightly, but her pulled her back for a long sensuous kiss. When their tongues met, a shiver went through both of them.

She pulled back and unbuttoned his shirt, trailing kisses down his chest as she did. She pulled it out of his pants and off his shoulders. She placed more kisses on his torso, as her hands worked at his belt. Once it was unbuckled, she undid his trousers and the zipper. She worked them and his briefs down and off of him, continuing to kiss and nip at him along the way.

Once he was naked, she dragged her mouth up his legs until she found his penis. She started licking from the base to the tip. He moaned with pleasure. She licked for several minutes, before she took him into her mouth. Then she worked her mouth around him with great energy.

When he was hard and ready to burst, she removed her mouth and moved up on his body. She took the ends of the scarf and trailed them up and down, circling his nipples and teasing his lips and cheeks. He was moving his hands up and down her torso, on top of the silk nightie, then underneath it and back again.

Finally, she climbed up and mounted him, adjusting his penis to her opening. He moved around and slipped inside her as she started riding him. He watched in awe as she moved around on him, her breasts straining the silk of her nightgown, the ends of the scarf brushing his skin.

She kept moving until she felt herself come. He watched her face as she rode the wave of her orgasm. As she was coming down from it, he turned her around and moved her down onto the bed. The he was above her and thrusting into her again. He pumped hard and fast and in a few minutes, he followed her into ecstasy.

Later, as they lay together, satiated and spent, he said, "Well, Mrs. House, I think that was a pretty good initiation into married life."

"Mrs. House. I like that."

"So are you going to be Marianne House."

"Of course. I always wanted to be."

"So I'll see Marianne House on your drawings?"

"No."

He looked at her, confused. "You're still going to use Marianne Newman."

"No, because I never did. My drawings say Marianne Gregory and always will. Harry had nothing to do with my drawings and neither do you. Why should either of your names be on them?"

He had to agree. "Makes sense." He smiled at her. How lucky was he to find a woman like this? She was patient enough to deal with his personality, but tough enough to not put up with his bullshit. And she was beautiful. Not to mention hot and great in bed.

For once in his life, he had actually won first prize.

"I love you." He told her.

"I love you too, Greg. Now and forever."

**A/N: This is the last actual chapter. There is an epilogue, which I will post later and also a couple of one shots for the Fox Board Friday Night Challenge. You may see Marianne pop up again. I don't know if there will be an actual sequel. We'll see. Thanks to everyone who's read and especially everyone who's reviewed this story.**


	71. Chapter 71

**Well, this is it folks - the epilogue of this story. There might be an occassional one shot - actually I have two already done from the Friday Night Challenge on Fox. My two loyal reviewers want a sequel, but no one else who's reading has said anything. There's a germ of one in my head, but if there's no interest, I doubt I'll bother.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading (even if you don't comment - it's good to see those stats!).**

Chapter 71 – EPILOGUE

Eighteen months later…

Brianna Newman snuggled closer on her grandfather's shoulder. She was having a lovely dream and Grandpa holding her only made it better.

When Marianne walked into the apartment, she had to smile at the sight that greeted her. House was sprawled out on the sofa with the baby lying on his chest. Both of them were sound asleep. She stood there for a few seconds and watched them, a smile on her face.

"Don't just stand there and watch, go make us some dinner." House said quietly.

"I thought you were asleep."

"I was…until I felt your eyes boring into me."

"You both look so cute lying there. But I thought we agreed that you would leave her in her crib to sleep?"

"I wanted to take a nap." He said, shifting the child as she started to stir.

"I know, and there's no better sleeping aid than a baby on your chest."

"Exactly." The baby opened her blue eyes and looked around a bit.

"Hello, sweetheart. Wait until you see the new outfit Grandma bought you. We'll put it on later." Marianne told her.

"Meg, you can't keep changing her clothes. She's not a Barbie doll."

"Well, at least I dress her. The extent of your efforts are a diaper and a t-shirt. And probably the same t-shirt." She said as she picked up the baby and examined her to find her wearing the same shirt House always put on her. It was light blue and said 'I have the best Grandpa in the world' in dark blue letters. Of course, House had had it made for her.

"When a truth is universal," he said, "you have to announce it."

She just shook her head and cuddled the baby, who only gave her a brief look before reaching out for her grandfather.

"Of course, she wants you." Marianne sighed.

House took the child back. "Breezy has good taste."

"Would you please stop calling her that? Her name is Brianna. It's a perfectly lovely name."

"But cheesy Breezy likes this name better. Isn't that right?" he said to the baby, who laughed.

She pulled at his hair and said, "Ganpa." Which was her special word for him. It made him smile every time she said it.

It made Marianne smile too. Especially when she saw how her husband was with this child. She never would have believed that he could love a baby so much, but he did.

People at the hospital were amazed. Brianna was enrolled in the hospital day care, so Michael and Allison sometimes brought her into the Diagnostics office. It was not uncommon to pass by and see House sitting with her on his lap while they did the DDX. He was also known to pop into the day care center at odd times to say hello to the child, but really, everyone knew he was checking up on the staff and making sure his granddaughter was treated well. The staff was a very afraid of him.

Marianne started into the kitchen, then turned back to ask him, "Did James call?"

"I don't know."

"You were here, right?"

"Breezy and I were sleeping. I turned off the phone."

She was exasperated. "Greg, I was expecting him to call about Lisa's shower. You know I didn't have my cell phone today, he had to call me here and we have so much to do before next week."

"Relax. Buy her a toaster and a nightie and you're done."

"I'm not done! I'm the maid of honor, there's a lot I have to do."

"Matron of honor."

"MAID. I'm not a matron."

"You certainly aren't." he said, his gaze going up and down her body. Marriage hadn't put any more fat onto her. She was still curved in all the right places and still willing to put up with him.

Life was good.

"Well, I'll get dinner together. You'd better change her and get her dressed. Michael and Allison will be by any time now."

"Doesn't mean I'm letting her go home."

Marianne just shook her head. But House slowly stood up and took the child over to the small changing table they had set up for the times when Brianna stayed with them.

Their lives had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Marianne still did her illustrations and went up to New York periodically to deal with her business. They kept the townhouse for those visits and occasional weekends for her and House and also for Michael and Allison. Wilson and Cuddy had used it as well.

In fact, three months previously they had taken a trip there and Wilson had proposed. The wedding was six weeks away. House and Marianne were best man and matron, uh, maid of honor.

Michael was still working for his father, but Allison had taken a staff position in the immunology department. They found it easier to live together if they didn't work together all the time. Being together 24/7 put a strain on a marriage. She still found her way into Diagnostics a lot to talk to Michael, bring the baby or just put her two cents into the DDX.

They were fortunate to have Michael's parents so close and so willing to take care of the baby for them whenever they needed them.

And Brianna was the apple of everyone's eye. The entire hospital was charmed by her and House was even seen to smile when in proximity of his granddaughter.

After Michael and Allison had taken their daughter home, House and Marianne sat together on the sofa while he flipped through TV channels.

"Did you ever think we'd end up like this?" she asked him.

"Like what?"

"This. Married. Our child and grandchild visiting. Then just us, relaxing together?"

"No, I thought we'd be part of a biker gang, terrorizing the southwest."

She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and pulled her close to him.

"There was a long time in my life when I never thought anything good would happen to me ever again. You, Michael, the baby, you're all just bonus time. Especially you."

He kissed the top of her head.

"Okay," he said, "If we're done with the 'aw, isn't it sweet,' do you want to watch wrestling?'

"Whatever you want, Greg, whatever you want." She said as she snuggled close to the man she could never remember not loving.

Life was truly good.


	72. Chapter 72

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DR. HOUSE**

"I don't do birthdays." House told his wife.

"But it's your fiftieth!" Marianne said. "We celebrated mine with that lovely party that Michael and Allison threw for me. And you enjoyed yourself."

"Of course. You had a party, you were happy and all I had to do was show up."

"Well, now it's yours."

"I don't do birthdays." He said again.

She looked at him. "Are you upset about turning fifty?"

"Why should I be? I've been sleeping with a hot fifty-year old woman for the last two months."

"Then why…"

"Leave it, Meg. I don't do birthdays." He picked up his backpack, gave her a kiss and headed to work.

Marianne thought about it, then picked up the phone. When Wilson answered, she told him what she wanted to do.

"He doesn't do birthdays." Wilson told her.

"Yes, I know. But it's his fiftieth and it will just be a simple gathering at the pub. A few friends, a few drinks, that's all. Then the two of us take off for dinner and a romantic night together. How can he object to that?"

"I don't know."

Marianne ignored his protests. "Do you think your wife will let him have a day off?"

"You can ask her. But I'm warning you, he doesn't do birthdays."

"Let me worry about that."

After saying goodbye to him, she called Cuddy.

"He can have the day off if there's no patient." Cuddy said. "But he doesn't do birthdays."

Exasperated, Marianne said, "It's a very simple thing. Nothing to upset him and the rest of the night will be just us."

"Well, good luck."

Next, she called her daughter-in-law at work and told her what she wanted to do.

"That sounds nice." Allison said, "But really, he doesn't do birthdays."

Marianne held in her anger. "Well, he's going to this year."

Michael called her later when House was at lunch. She outlined her plan again for a celebratory drink or two with friends at the pub, then she and House would head to a nice restaurant for dinner and a romantic hotel for the evening. How could he protest that?

"Looks like you've got it all worked out. But from what I understand, he doesn't do birthdays."

Marianne lost it. "He's doing this one. He will celebrate his fiftieth birthday or I swear, it will be his last!"

Somehow she managed to keep it secret from him. It didn't seem to matter though. The stars were aligned against her.

The day before his birthday, House got a new case. It kept him at the hospital until after midnight. When he came home, claiming the patient was cured before falling into bed, she breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't going to be one of those cases that kept him there for days.

But when the patient had a relapse the next day, she started getting nervous. Michael gave her hourly updates on their progress. He was okay, they figured it out. No, they didn't, he had another symptom.

Wilson was supposed to bring him to the pub at 6 PM. He called her at 5:45.

"He's not finished and I don't know when he will be."

Marianne called the pub and cancelled, then called Allison and told her to tell everyone not to come. She also cancelled the dinner and hotel reservations.

She was disappointed, but as she sat thinking about it, she thought there had to be some way to salvage his birthday celebration. An idea occurred to her and she made a phone call. After receiving an affirmative answer, she took off to get what she needed.

Meanwhile, House was congratulating himself on avoiding the birthday party that he assumed his wife was throwing for him. Her heart was in the right place, but he really didn't want to celebrate his birthday. He hadn't done so since he'd left home. Actually, the last real celebration had been his eighteenth birthday and he had celebrated that one with her, before they'd separated for the next thirty years.

That **had** been nice. They had gone down to Mexico and they were both 99 per cent sure that Michael had been conceived then. What a present! Even if it had taken thirty years for him to get his present. Still…

Stacy had tried to give him a party the first year that they were together, but he had raised such a fuss, that she never tried again. Which was exactly the way he wanted it.

Marianne was a good person and he was really happy with her, but it was the principle of the thing. So, although normally he would grumble about getting a patient and having to work, this time he thought it was pretty lucky.

But he shouldn't have discounted Marianne's resourcefulness. Her first husband had been a shrewd businessman and he had taught her not to accept defeat if there was another option.

She needed food and it needed to be portable, but still special. She went to Wegmans, a higher end grocery store. She found everything she wanted there. After packing it all up in the rolling cooler that House had bought to make it easier to transport with his leg, she packed the cooler in her car and took off for the hospital.

It was early evening and the hospital was fairly quiet. She stowed the cooler and started up to find her husband.

She tried his office first, but Dr. Del Toro told her that he had just left. She thought he might be in the patient's room and gave Marianne directions.

But when she got there, Michael was the only one there.

"He was here briefly, long enough to bark out orders, but he's not here now." And Michael didn't know where he'd gone. He suggested asking Wilson.

She went to Wilson's office and, since it was next door, stopped in House's office again, but Del Toro shook her head. He wasn't in Wilson's office either and the oncologist hadn't seen him for a while. He gave her some suggestions though: the roof, the cafeteria, coma guy's room.

"Why don't you just call him?" He asked her.

"Because I want to surprise him."

She tried all of Wilson's suggestions to no avail. House seemed to have disappeared. In desperation, she went to Cuddy's office.

Cuddy was at her desk, working at her computer. She smiled at Marianne.

"Everything ready?"

"Everything except the guest of honor. Do you have any idea where Greg could be? He's nowhere to be found."

Cuddy gave a snort of disgust. "As if I was ever able to find him. I'm the one he's usually hiding from. But I do have an idea."

She spelled it out for Marianne, then she picked up the phone and dialed House's office. When Del Toro answered, she told her what she wanted. A few seconds later, her phone rang and from where Marianne was sitting she could hear House's voice yelling at Cuddy from the other end.

"What the hell do you mean I can't do that test? It's a standard test, the patient needs it and you're too much of a bureaucrat these days to remember what REAL doctors do."

"House, you can yell and scream, but I can't justify the expense." She nodded at Marianne, who got up and rushed out of the office. "However, I might be able to allow it if you do me a favor."

"I told you, I can't father your child. You'll have to depend on Wilson's sperm, sub-standard as they are."

Cuddy ignored him and continued. "I have a patient in the clinic that needs some help and I really can't get away. Take care of it and I'll allow your tests."

House was silent for a moment. "You allow the tests AND give me a week off clinic and I'll take care of your patient."

Cuddy smiled silently. "Okay, if I have to. It's a deal. The patient is in exam room one. All the information you'll need is there too."

House hung up the phone and made his way from the hospital chapel to the clinic. The chapel was a great place to catch a nap. Nice and quiet, usually no one was there and if there was, they were usually silently praying. And no one ever thought to look for him there.

He wondered who this patient of Cuddy's was and why he – or she – was there at night when the clinic was closed. Well, he would soon find out, he supposed.

He opened the door to exam room one and saw that it was dark. He reached out to switch on the light, but a whispered voice said, "Leave it off."

This was weird. Maybe the patient had a light sensitivity, which could explain why she (the voice was definitely female) had come to the clinic in the evening.

"Who's there? I'm going to need light to examine you."

"No, you don't."

Despite the whisper, there was something familiar about the voice. He was trying to figure it out, when he felt a hand touch his arm and move up to his shoulder, then down again.

Damn, he definitely knew that touch. There was only one person who touched him like that.

"Meg, what's going on?"

"Doctor, I'm not feeling well." Since he'd recognized her, there was no need to continue whispering. "You'll need to check me out. All of me."

"Can I turn the light on?"

"Only after you lock the door."

He smiled, turned and locked the door, then switched on the light. When he turned back to her, he saw that she was dressed only in a black lace demi bra, black garter belt and black silk stockings, with three-inch stiletto heels, also black.

Damn!

"Well, young lady, what seems to be bothering you?"

"I hurt all over, doctor. Can you treat me…all over?"

"I think I can manage to do that. I actually have an instrument here that will do a very good job on you."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Forty-five minutes later, they were lying on the exam table together, eating the food she had brought with her: A big loaf of crusty Italian bread, prosciutto ham, sharp provolone cheese and roasted red peppers in olive oil. She put it all together into large sandwiches on the bread. There were bitter Italian black olives as well and they washed it down with sparkling cider.

"Cider?" He had snorted, derisively.

"You're working. No alcohol allowed. Besides, it's bubbly like champagne."

He laughed at her and shook his head. Fifty years old and she was still so naïve.

"This was supposed to be, "she told him, "Dinner at Café Aldo Lamberti in Cherry Hill."

"Damn, I like that place."

"I know you do. Then we had a reservation for a room at the Inn of the Dove."

"That sexy hotel?" He asked. She nodded. "Damn."

He looked at her in the black lace, something she never usually wore. "Still, this was pretty damn sexy."

"You liked?"

"Me liked."

"So celebrating your birthday wasn't such a bad thing after all?"

He gave a slant-eyed look. "I thought you were planning a party."

"I wasn't. Just a few drinks with your friends."

"That's a party"

"Not really."

At that moment, his pager went off.

"Time's up." She said. "Lisa told me we could have one hour. Then you had to get back to work."

He moved carefully off of the exam table and took one more look at her.

"Damn.'

"Happy Birthday, Dr. House."

**A/N: Okay, a just a little sequel to celebrate Hugh's (and House's we presume) birthday. Doesn't tell us anything, just a bit of fluff and fun. There's another one that I did as well and will post later this week or next. I'll post it here as an addendum to this story and also by itself as House's Patience 6, since it is connected both to this story and to my continuing one shots of House's Patience stories.**


	73. Chapter 73

**This was done as part of the Fox board;s Friday Night Challenge back in July. Since it referred to this story, I thought I'd add it to the story. There's another one as well that I will add this week.**

**I'LL BE SEEING YOU**

"See? Now wasn't this a good idea?"

"No." House said stubbornly.

His wife just shook he head. Trying to get him to agree with her was useless. Better to just blackmail him into doing what she wanted and make sure he enjoyed it.

"I just wanted to come back here when I wasn't dying." Marianne said.

"You weren't dying."

"I had cancer, I could have died,"

House was silent, but held her hand a little tighter. He didn't like to think about how close he had come to losing her. Which was one reason why he had agreed to come to Cape May with her for the weekend. The last trip here had been nice, but it was just before she went in for surgery to have a lump removed from her breast.

So even though he had grumbled and complained about returning here, he was secretly happy to do it for her.

"I'm hungry." He said suddenly. "When's lunch?"

"Well, there's a news flash! Greg House is hungry!"

He gave her a look and she sighed and said, "Actually, I could eat myself. Let's see…" she glanced around the street where they were walking.

"Oh, look at the nice restaurant there! Looking out over the beach. Let's go there."

"As long as they serve food instead of sand, that's fine with me. I want a drink and food."

They made their way to the restaurant and soon were inside and being escorted to a table by the window, looking out on the beach.

Once House had ordered a drink, Marianne told him that she needed to use the rest room. She rose and left the table as he sat back and waited impatiently for his drink.

As was the case in most public places, there were not enough stalls in the ladies room and there was a line.

Marianne waited her turn and watched as a woman came out of a stall and started to wash her hands. She smiled at Marianne who smiled back in the way you do when you're greeting a stranger. Then the woman said, "It's atrocious how women never have enough bathroom stalls."

"I know." Marianne said. "Men never have to wait like this."

"That's because they don't care who sees them." The woman fixed her hair and makeup as she spoke. Not that she really needed to. She was beautiful and elegant, perfectly put together.

The woman finished her ministrations and picked up her purse. "It was nice talking to you. I hope you don't have to wait too long."

"Me too." Marianne said and smiled at the woman. She returned the smile before leaving the ladies room.

House was thinking about whether he should order another drink now or wait until Marianne came out of the bathroom. What was taking her so long anyway? He had just lifted the glass to his lips to dredge the last of the liquid, when he heard a voice behind him call his name. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. He'd recognize that voice anytime, anywhere.

He slowly turned his head. "Hello, Stacey."

"This is a surprise. I wouldn't expect to see you here." She sat down next to him.

"I'm on vacation."

"In Cape May?"

House shrugged. "There's always a first time."

Stacey smiled at him. "How have you been, Greg?"

"Pretty damn good."

Marianne exited the ladies room and made her way back to their table. As she approached, she saw someone sitting there with House. A woman.

As she got closer and took her seat, she saw that the person sitting there was the woman she had spoken to in the ladies room.

"Oh," Marianne said. "Hello."

The woman looked at her in surprise. "Hello. You're with Greg?"

Marianne glanced at House. "You know Greg?"

House looked at the two of them. "You know each other?"

"We met in the ladies room. Well, we didn't meet, but we spoke." Marianne said.

House studied his drink for a moment, then looked at the woman and said, "Stacey…"

Marianne interrupted. "Stacey? This is Stacey?"

"Yeah, it is. Stacey, this is Marianne…my wife."

Stacey had a moment of shock before saying, "Your wife? You're married?"

House gave her a look. "Did you think I wouldn't get married?"

Stacey stopped, remembering the words. "Actually, I did."

"Well, you were wrong."

Marianne had been silent, studying the only other woman her husband had loved. She was beautiful, refined and elegant. She recalled that Stacey was married too.

"So, Stacey how is your husband?" Marianne asked her.

"I wouldn't know. We're not together."

House snorted. "Couldn't handle being with another cripple, huh?"

"No, actually, he couldn't. He had an affair with his physical therapist. When she ended up pregnant, he left me."

"Oh, that's awful!" Marianne told her.

"Well, I guess it's just poetic justice. You reap what you sow."

"You didn't cheat on Greg."

"That wasn't what I…anyway, it's over.

House took a swig of his drink while the women sat in silence.

Stacey started to rise. "I should go. I've intruded on your lunch long enough. It was nice to see you, Greg, and to meet you, Marianne."

Marianne looked at the lovely woman and suddenly felt sorry for her. She'd had Greg and she'd lost him. And now she'd lost her husband as well.

"Why don't you join us?" Marianne blurted out.

"Oh, no, I couldn't." Stacey said.

House just glared at his wife.

"Please, join us. You shouldn't have to eat lunch alone here in this beautiful place."

Stacey looked at House, who was staying silent.

"Greg?" Marianne said. "Tell her to eat with us."

House shrugged. "Sure. Eat with us."

Stacey looked at House's indifferent expression and Marianne's friendly one. "I really don't want to intrude."

"You won't be intruding." Marianne told her. "Please?"

Stacey smiled and nodded. Marianne signaled the waiter to bring another place setting and menu.

Soon all three had ordered their meals and were settling down to chat.

"So how did you two meet?" Stacey asked.

"Actually, we met in high school."

"High school?" Stacey said in confusion.

"Yes, when we were seniors. Both of our dads were stationed at Ft. Bliss in Texas."

"Wait a minute!" Stacey exclaimed, turning to House. "Greg, she's not THAT Marianne, is she?"

"Yep, she is."

"You know about me?" Marianne asked.

"Of course. Greg and I discussed our first times. I just never thought, I mean, how did you…?"

"We met again when, by coincidence, our son started to work for Greg."

"Do you mean your son?"

Marianne glanced at House, who shrugged, as she said, "No, I mean 'our'. We have a son. His name is Michael."

Stacey gave House a strange look. "You never told me you had a son."

"Never knew it." House stated.

They could tell that Stacey was confused, so Marianne quickly explained how she was pregnant when House went to college and how she didn't tell him.

Stacey was amazed. "So Greg didn't know? Did your son?"

"No. Michael didn't know his real father's name. But he'd secretly wanted to work for Dr. House for a long time."

"That's just unbelievable! So what kind of father is Greg? What sort of relationship do they have?"

"Well, it was a bit rocky to start, but eventually they found their way."

"Wow, that's just…hard to imagine. So how…?"

"How is he in the sack?" House interrupted. "Terrific, of course. As always. I'm going to the bar. Call me when you're finished discussing my sexual prowess. Or when the food gets here. Whichever comes first."

He limped away. The women watched him go, and then sat in awkward silence.

Finally, Stacey spoke. "You know, I was always a little jealous of you."

Marianne looked at her in astonishment. "You were?"

"Yes. You were his first love. He never forgot you. Even when we were happy together, I felt that he still loved you. If he had met you again while we were a couple, well, I can't say what would have happened."

Marianne shook her head. "That's …amazing. And a strange coincidence because I've been jealous of you."

"Why?"

"Because he loved you, he lived with you. It's a part of his life that I didn't share."

"But he married you."

"I didn't say it was rational. I know it's not. After all, I was married for fifteen years too. But I still feel that he should have been in limbo somewhere waiting for me."

Stacey played with the napkin in front of her for a bit, then said, "You probably think I'm a terrible person."

"Why would I think that?"

"For what I did to Greg."

"While he was in the hospital or after?"

"Both."

"It's not my place to judge anything you've done. And after all, I kept his son from him for thirty years."

"Why did you?"

"At the time, I thought it was the best thing for him."

"Yeah, me too."

There was silence again, but this one was contemplative rather than awkward. When they raised their eyes and looked at each other, they each saw tears in the other woman's eyes.

"I never wanted to hurt him." Stacey said. "I was just so afraid that he would die. And that was unimaginable."

"I was afraid that I would ruin his life if he knew about the baby. But maybe, in reality, I did ruin his life."

"I know that I did."

They were both crying by this time, when they heard another voice.

"Oh, will you two stop it!" House said. "I leave you to talk about my superior sexual abilities and I come back to this pity party."

"But Greg…" Marianne began.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You both screwed up. Deal with it. Everyone screws up at least once in their lives. Even I've been known to, though not often. If Marianne hadn't broken up with me back then, I would never have met Stacey. And if Stacey hadn't left me, I would never have hooked up with Marianne again."

"But we hurt you." His wife told him.

"Nothing you can do about it now." He said. "Unless you two would be interested in a threesome?" he added hopefully.

"No." Both women said together.

"Damn." He muttered. "Then, in that case, let it go."

The waiter brought their food at that time. They ate in silence, savoring the meal and their thoughts. Except for House, who didn't think about any of it and ate way too fast to savor the meal.

Marianne finally broke the silence. "Okay, then no more feeling sorry for ourselves. It's a beautiful day in a beautiful place."

'That's true." Stacey replied.

"So let's stop worrying about things we can't do anything about. Let's just think about now and how we can make this day a good one."

"You're right. We can enjoy today. This has been a lovely lunch."

House snorted. "Now I'm going to be sick. It's just lunch between three people who happened to be in the same place at the same time. We won't be doing this again."

The women looked at each other, realizing they would probably never get together again.

"Unless you'd like to rethink the threesome idea?" he asked hopefully.

"No." They both said again.

"Honestly, Greg," Marianne said. "Do you really believe you can satisfy two women at once?"

He shot her a look. "I wasn't thinking about **satisfying** two women."

Marianne rolled her eyes. Stacey just shook her head.

The three of them reached the street. Marianne turned to Stacey and gave the other woman a quick hug.

"It was really nice to meet you and talk with you."

"Same here. And the best of luck to the two of you. I hope you have a wonderful life together." Stacey smiled as she spoke.

"Thank you. Good luck to you too. I hope everything works out for you."

"So do I." Stacey turned to House. "Take care of her, Greg, she's good for you."

"Yeah, yeah, she's a goddess."

Stacey just smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be seeing you, Greg."

She walked away. House watched her go, then mumbled under his breath, "Probably not in this lifetime."

"Greg!" Marianne cried. "That's very rude."

"Oh, please! If she'd stayed around any longer, I'd have needed my blood sugar tested."

"What do you mean?"

"All that 'so happy to meet you' and 'I hope you're happy' bullshit."

"It's not bullshit. I do hope she's happy."

House gave her a quizzical look.

"I do. Her happy is in my best interest. I hope she meets a fabulous man tomorrow, falls head over heels in love and gets married."

House examined the fierce look on his wife's face, then smiled knowingly. "You have nothing to worry about."

"I know. It's just insurance. She was the only other woman you were ever in love with."

"You have nothing to worry about." He repeated.

"I know." She took his hand and together they walked down the street.


End file.
